Love, Kinsey
Brandy Jeffus Corona
Copyright © 2013 by Brandy Jeffus Corona
Love, Kinsey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
http://brandyjeffuscorona.webs.com/
Edited & formatted by: Robyn M. Pierce
Robynmariepierce.com
Cover art & design by: Stephanie White of Steph’s Cover Design
http://www.stephscoverdesign.com/
Author’s Note
In the middle of writing Love, Kinsey, my little sister, Jamie Livingston, received a diagnosis of breast cancer at the age of 27. Her diagnosis made this book a little more personal and much harder to finish. Although they do not share the same diagnosis, I still felt that maybe I should change the direction of this story. However, I decided not to. Kinsey’s story is her own, as is Jamie’s. This book is dedicated to her; one of the bravest women I know.
Keep fighting like a girl, Jamie!
You never leave someone behind; you take a part of them with you and leave a part of yourself behind.
Author Unknown
Prologue
Do you believe in soul mates? That there is one person in the whole world just for you?
I used to, when I was younger. I would watch all my favorite Disney Princess movies and rejoice in the fact that I would never be alone when I grew up, because I had that one person waiting just for me.
Like most little girls, I would dress up and play make-believe wedding, forcing my cousin Brody to be the groom and my brother Keaten as the preacher.
As I've grown older, my opinion has changed. The fact that I've fallen in love five distinct times does not elude me.
Now I think that we have multiple soul mates in our lives and our free will changes our destiny and outcome.
Too often, when people move on from their past, they quickly dismiss their relationships. Especially if they get married. But rarely are the people we marry our first loves. And just because a spouse might be your last love, it doesn't mean your previous ones were any less important.
After all, if I wasn't meant to fall in love, I wouldn't. Right?
Part One:
The Diagnosis
Chapter 1
KINSEY
I, Kinsey Masters, had just been sentenced to death. A painful, inevitable death that would happen very soon.
After the words malignant inoperable brain tumor I stopped listening. Everything shut down and the doctor's speech became static. A little four-and-a-half centimeter mass was going to kill me.
The tears fell as Colby's strong arms embraced me immediately. His palms were sweaty against my arms, but his grip was tight. I remember thinking how good he smelled, how clean and manly.
At 29 years of age, I was informed that I wouldn't make it to my 30th birthday. Try wrapping your brain around that nugget of information. My last birthday hadn't been a big deal. Colby took me out to dinner and a movie and my parents sent me flowers. Keaten, my brother, hand delivered a card with a half-nude cowboy on the front and my best friends sent me a cookie bouquet; something they did every year. That would be my last birthday here on Earth. Too, too weird.
"So there's nothing else we can do? Nothing?! That's bullshit with all this technology we have now." Colby was becoming hysterical, while I sat there, still as stone. It felt like someone had just kicked me in the gut.
Dr. Chang, being the sympathetic doctor he was, came over and gave us a hug. He actually had tears in his eyes.
Why is my doctor crying? I thought, How weird to see a grown man, nearly a stranger, cry for me.
We left shortly after that. Dr. Chang gave me a pocket full of prescriptions; steroids, painkillers, antibiotics. Radiation and surgery were out of the question. Lucky me, I had one of the densest and more spread out tumors he had ever seen.
Why? Why me? Yes, a very cliché thought, but one of the first I had nonetheless.
It was silent on the way home. My phone started ringing and I saw my Mom’s contact picture. I took a deep breath and hit the ignore button.
"Kinsey? Honey, talk to me, please." Colby begged as we pulled into the driveway. I looked at him, really looked at my fiancé. He was so handsome; had spent so many nights taking care of me when I started getting sick months ago. He was beautiful on the outside and inside.
"I'm okay, Colby. I'm going to die. And that's okay," I whisper. That statement scared the living daylights out of me.
"It's just not fair. We had plans, dammit! We had a whole life planned together!" Colby sobbed.
Colby and I had met at the newspaper office. I had already been there for years when he transferred from another sister office. We hit it off right away and I fell in love instantly. It wasn't very hard. He was an upright man, always had been.
A few months ago, Colby had proposed, right before I started getting sick. And now...Now we weren't going to be able to marry.
An inoperable malignant brain tumor, that's what we learned after months of trials. After stupid CAT scans, blood work and finally a biopsy. Totally incurable and totally leading to death.
I heaved a big sigh and opened the door to the Durango. "I feel like ice cream, is that ok?"
"Anything for you, honey."
We sat on the couch eating Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream and watched some crime scene TV show. My head felt like mush; a leftover effect of the vicious headache I had earlier. I snuggled up next to Colby, who smelled like a mixture of Old Spice and vanilla. The same scent that kept me sane in the doctor’s office.
"Colby, I have to tell my mom and dad. Can you call them over?" I looked up into his emerald eyes. His bleach blonde hair fell over his forehead and I reached up to push it back. My handsome surfer boy.
"Yeah baby, I will."
I headed to the bathroom. After grabbing some painkillers from the medicine cabinet, I looked at myself in the mirror. The sickness I've dealt with for so long had started taking its toll. My face was skinny, too skinny, with sunken cheeks and bags under my blue eyes. My honey colored hair, once shiny and voluminous, hung limp and dull around my face.
Everything about me was dying.
It took my parents five minutes to get to our house. My heart broke as I looked at their concern faces, full of promise.
I turned myself off; freed myself of all the emotions attached to the news. I had to be strong for them. Telling a pair of parents their baby is going to die is hard, even harder when you're talking about yourself.
The next hour was full of more crying, more sadness, and more anger, mainly from my dad. It was emotionally draining and by the time my parents left I was exhausted.
I was sick of talking about dying. I was sick of the tears and sobbing. All I wanted was to lie in bed and forget this day had ever happened.
***
COLBY
As soon as her parents left, Kinsey changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. I stood at the doorway and looked at my baby. She looked so tiny in our big king size bed. She gave me a tired smile and patted my side of the bed.
She's changed so much in the last few months. Ever since she started feeling bad; getting those God-awful headaches and stomachaches. She was already petite but now she was downright skinny, no meat on her bones at all. She was sickly, but she would always be beautiful in my eyes.
I tried to be strong for her at t
he doctor's office, but I was so pissed off. Kinsey was young, had so much life left to live. I thought we had a future together.
I stood up and took my shirt off. I was tired of thinking about this bull. That is exactly what it was, bullshit. My fiancée was only 29 years old, life was messed up.
Chapter 2
KINSEY
My dream started uneventfully. I walked down a narrow footpath in a park. Beautiful weeping willows lined the walkway. Each tree was massive with strong, thick arms and graceful leaves. The sky was the perfect shade of blue with not a single cloud present.
About ten yards in front of me, a bench appeared.
It wasn't empty.
A man sat on a bench reading a newspaper. He was dressed in plaid shorts and a light blue shirt. My heart sped up when I realized I knew him.
Nolan Tozzo, my ex-boyfriend, and, more importantly, one of my ex-loves.
He looked up and took hold of my stare and gave me the biggest smile, flashing all his perfect, white teeth.
"Kinsey! I've been waiting for you to arrive. Come here, come here!"
It was almost as if I floated over to him. He instantly enveloped me in a bear hug.
"Oh, Kinsey, you look beautiful!" He exclaimed as he slightly pushed me away to arm's length.
He, of course, looked amazing. Nolan was 100% Italian; both of his parents migrated here when they were young. His flawless olive-toned skin, midnight black hair and caramel eyes made him so incredibly good-looking it almost hurt to look at him.
"Thank you, Nolan. You look wonderful, like always. You haven't changed a bit," I smiled at him as he held my face in both hands and beamed at me. His eyes roamed my face, intently studying me.
He frowned and said, "You've lost weight, though, flower. Your eyes are so sad." That's when I broke down crying. Nolan didn't say a word as he held me tightly.
Eventually, I quit sobbing and he led me down to the bench. "Oh Nolan, I've had some very bad news. They said that I'm going to kick the bucket soon, very soon, from an inoperable brain tumor. I really can't believe it. I just can't."
Nolan produced a tissue and gently wiped my face. His brows furrowed as he bit his bottom lip, a sign that he's deep in thought.
"Death comes when it wants. We never know when it'll happen. But this is sad, very depressing news. It breaks my heart. You, my dear, are one of the few who deserve a century of years on this Earth," he said after a while.
His words were like a warm blanket. They surrounded and infiltrated my body; swimming in my head before taking root in my heart. Right away, I felt calm.
"I've had a really good run,” I said thoughtfully. And I had. My life hadn’t been all bad. My childhood was great, my family superb and everything else had been pretty normal.
“It’s just that it feels too soon. Like I need to accomplish more. See more. Do more. Get married, have babies," I trail off.
"But you've touched lives, Kinsey. Thousands of lives. I've been following your career. Your talent for writing has made you a household name. Your stories are real, raw and most importantly, powerful. And besides that, you've changed the lives of five very different men in your lifetime,” his smile is all-knowing and makes my heart skip a beat.
How did he know it was five?
"How... How did you know?" Voicing my question aloud.
While I'm realistic about the number of men I've loved, I never made it a habit to constantly talk about the past to Nolan. He was the type to not focus on the past, but the present. He smiled and stood up to stretch and then offered me his hand, "Let's take a walk?"
Nodding, I grabbed his hand. We proceeded down the footpath and came to a clearing full of daisies. Daisies of every color blanketed the ground.
"Oh wow! This is beautiful!"
"Your favorite, right?" Nolan glances at me and winked.
I nodded and gave a little chuckle, "Yes, always have been, and always will be. This is a really strange dream."
It's Nolan's turn to chuckle and he throws his arm around me, "Just wait, honey."
All of a sudden the rest of my exes appeared, along with Colby, and walked toward us through the field from different directions. They all had easy smiles on their striking faces.
"What's going on, Nolan?"
"The purpose of this dream," he replied gently, "You of course have touched many, many lives in your young life. Your parents, your brother, your friends, teachers, coworkers... The list goes on." He smiled at the other men when they got to us. He made a gesture to them that they had the floor.
"Kinsey, when you loved us, you gave a part of your heart, and vice-versa. As corny as this sounds we exchanged pieces. And they may not have fit neatly or perfectly but they fit nonetheless. So when our time with you was over, we moved on but kept you with us,” Cameron spoke first.
"You taught us each something about ourselves, about life, about love. We were each a different person after you left us," Landon said next.
I was so very confused. None of it made any sense. I looked at each face, each handsome face that I fell in love with: Landon, my first love from high school, Joe, the one I had a summer fling with before college, Cameron, my college boyfriend, and Nolan, my after-college love. I stopped at Colby, my last love, who was still smiling.
He took a few steps toward us and clapped Nolan on the shoulder. Nolan moved from my side and walked to the group.
"Kinsey, you're leaving a legacy behind. A legacy of one very important girl who has completely changed her five soul mates' lives,” Colby whispered. Tears trickled down my cheeks and he reached up to wipe them away.
"Your last story should be yours," he finished. He kissed my cheek and walked back to the group.
"This is so bizarre."
"Life is one bizarre ride, Kins," Nolan replied.
And with that I woke up. Colby gently snored next to me. Sweat covered my entire body and my hair was fully damp.
The only thing running through my mind was to wake Colby up and tell him.
And so I did.
"Colby, wake up! Colby, I gotta tell you something," I whisper fervently, gently shaking him.
"Kins? What's wrong? Did you get sick?" He asked me groggily. He reached for the lamp on the night table and turned it on.
Colby knew me; he literally knew everything about me. I'd been an open book with him because I learned from past mistakes. He knew about each guy I’d ever loved, and I know about his past loves. He was comfortable with my past, like I have been with his. Jealousy has never reared its ugly head in our relationship, because we both agreed that it was a waste of time and energy. Colby never disregarded anything about my life.
As he sat up in bed, I launched into describing my dream. I told him every detail, everything that was said, because for some reason I remembered it word for word.
His expression remained pensive as he soaked everything in. He took turns looking at my face and staring at the wall.
When I finished, I climbed out of bed to get a drink from the bathroom. When I came back, Colby was smiling.
He whispered, "You should do it.”
"Say again?"
"Your final story, like I told you in the dream. It just needs to be yours. We should speak to Rosemary tomorrow about it. Let her know the news and tell her your idea."
"Wait, wait. Hold on. It was a dream, Colby. That's all. I don't need any vanity piece about me. It was just a crazy dream."
"No, Kinsey. It's a sign. You really should do it. What, you think only flaky superficial celebrities should have stories done about them? No way. It'll be epic, you deserve it," he said reaching for the lamp. He turned the light off and lay back down. I followed suit, my head swimming with a million different questions. Snuggled up against Colby's broad chest, I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Chapter 3
COLBY
Kinsey looked relaxed as we sat in Rosemary Dougherty’s office at the Abilene Times Courier. Kinsey adored her and this office was he
r second home.
Rosemary kept everything spotless, except her desk. There were old cut up newspaper articles, about ten pairs of scissors, notepads of all sizes and more pens than she really needed.
She came in quietly, “Kinsey, dear, come here!”
Kinsey turned and smiled. They embraced and Kinsey gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Well tell me, how did your doctor visit go yesterday?” Rosemary’s steel-colored eyes held concern and hope as she settled across the room in an oversized zebra-print chair. I felt my heart drop a little lower in my chest as Kinsey let herself fall into a love seat.
Kinsey took a deep breath and explained the diagnosis. Immediately, Rosemary rose from her chair to hug her. Our firecracker, hold-you-by-the-balls editor was visibly shaking. I caught a glimpse of mascara streaks on her cheeks.
Kinsey then launched into her dream and subsequent ideas for her story. Rosemary had quieted down, gently hiccupping every now and then while Kins finished her thoughts.
I found a Kleenex box underneath some files on the desk and brought it over to the women. Rosemary grabbed one and dabbed at her eyes.
“Oh, Kinsey. I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m at a loss for words.”
“Well, that’s a first,” Kinsey whispered. The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Love, Kinsey Page 1