Kissing Frogs

by Kim Deister

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Kissing Frogs

  Copyright © 2017 Kim Deister

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Published by Caffeinated Words Publishing

  Hawaii

  Cover Design: Kennedy Kelly, Cover Crush Designs

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.

  To my husband Corey…

  Thank you for loving me enough to have my back! Thank you for talking me off the wall, more than once. That wasn’t in the job description, but you did it anyway. I love you more than words can say!

  To my sons…

  Donovan, Ka’lani, Scott, and Tyler

  Thanks for putting up with my random conversations about characters you don’t know. And thank you for accepting all my crazy. You guys are everything to me!

  To my brothers Tripp and Michael…

  You guys rock! No matter what we’ve been through, we’re still here… together. Always

  To Braydee…

  You don’t know it yet, sweetling, but you are a shining light in the world. Your auntie loves you so much!

  I love you all!

  Dawn was breaking over the river when I woke up and opened my eyes. The early morning sun poured through the wide-open balcony doors, bathing it in a pale yellow glow. It felt so good on my skin that I kicked off the covers and basked in the warmth of its beams, lazily stretching like a cat. It was barely five in the morning, but sleeping was a lost cause.

  I grabbed a hoodie and threw it on over my pajamas before wandering out onto the balcony. April mornings were cold in northern New York, but I loved the clean, fresh air of spring. The river in front of me was almost as smooth as glass, its surface marred only by tiny ripples as fish leaped out of the water to catch their breakfasts. It was my favorite time of day, so peaceful and quiet. The only sound I heard besides the occasional splash of water was the throaty songs of the loons. They sang every morning while they floated on the sheltered pond behind the house.

  It was peaceful, but it wasn't enough to calm the excitement that coursed through me. It was my last day as a single chick. Today I was Cassidy Flanagan, but tomorrow I would be Cassidy Radcliffe. Tomorrow I would be a respectable married woman, no longer living in sin. Of course, that was my grandmother’s version of the situation, not my own. She was rather vocal about her disapproval of the whole “living together before marriage” thing, at least when it involved her granddaughter.

  Luke and I had known each other for almost twelve years. We met on the first day of our freshman year of high school and clicked immediately. But for a long time, that was all we were… best friends. It took us almost another whole year before either of us were ready to admit that, somewhere along the line, our feelings for each other had changed. And we had been together pretty much ever since, toughing it out even during some pretty rocky times. But it was worth it, I thought with an embarrassing amount of giddiness.

  The house was still silent when I turned back inside. I ran my hands through my sleep-tousled hair and tried to put it into some semblance of order, but my fingers got stuck more than a few times. It was a losing battle. I gave up and gathered the heavy bulk of my long, red hair into a messy bun on top of my head. The moment I let go of it, a half a dozen wild curls escaped. Neatness and my hair were two things that didn't go together without at least a gallon of heavy-duty hair products. Even then, it was iffy at best.

  Coffee. I need coffee. As excited as I was about my upcoming nuptials, there were certain things that were necessary for my survival. Large quantities of java, preferably administered intravenously. It was just the reality of my life.

  I started down the stairs. A few steps down and I decided to ignore the fact that I was about to be a respectable, married woman. There were certain childhood traditions that needed to be maintained, regardless of age. I hopped on the banister and slid down to the first floor. My dismount was on point when I landed with practiced ease on the sun-warmed hardwood floor, arms raised in my best Olympic gymnast pose.

  Much to my surprise, my mom and sister sat next to each other at the kitchen table when I walked in. It was unusual to see either of them conscious at this hour if they didn’t have to be, since both of them were allergic to early mornings. Even more surprising was the presence of Grandma Fiona and Taylor, my best friend. The four of them were deep into an intense conversation. But the moment they realized they were no longer alone, the conversation ended abruptly. They turned as if they were one to look up at me.

  “Hey! I wasn’t expecting to see any of you awake at this hour of the morning. Especially you two.” I gestured at my mom and my sister as I walked around the table and planted a light kiss on my grandmother’s soft, powdery cheek. “And I didn’t think you guys were coming over until lunch time. Are we having some kind of pre-wedding, female bonding moment?”

  I laughed at my own question, but when none of them even smiled, it quickly became obvious that all was not well in Cassidy Land. For a long, awkward moment, no one said anything and my nervousness grew. Something was going on and no one wanted to tell me what it was. And I was pretty sure that whatever it was would change everything for me.

  Part of me wanted to run. It was the eve of my wedding and I didn’t want to hear anything that would ruin it for me. I had waited too long and gone through too much to get to this. But I was frozen where I stood as I watched them exchange a look full of silent words, words that I couldn't translate. No one was crying so I took that as a sign
that at least no one had died. Eventually, my sister Mac got up and poured another mug of coffee. She set it on the table in front of an empty chair and sat back down next to Mom.

  “Sit down, honey. We need to talk.” My sister’s voice was uncharacteristically soft and the expression on her face was full of worry. All of them were looking back at me with sadness and concern. My stomach churned with unease.

  “Why? About what?” No one answered me. “Okay. What the hell is going on? Why won’t any of you answer me?” I was annoyed as hell and I knew they could hear it in my voice.

  “We will, but you need to sit down first.” I didn’t want to sit down. I didn’t want to hear them talk to me with sad voices, see them look at me as if I might break at any moment.

  Mac reached out a foot and shoved the empty chair away from the table. I took the hint and sat down, wrapping my hands around my waiting mug of coffee. Five minutes ago, coffee had been my primary goal. Now I just wanted to get through whatever piano was about to drop on my head.

  I had been so focused on their weird behavior that I hadn't noticed the envelope tucked between the salt and pepper shakers. I reached for it, but my sister reached out and slapped my hand before my fingers could do more than brush it. With a yelp of pain, I snatched my hand away and rubbed it while leveling a glare in her direction.

  “What the hell was that for, Mac?"

  “It’s just…” Her voice faltered as she avoided my eyes and my mother took over.

  “Give it to her, MacKenzie. She needs to see it.” She turned her attention back to me and studied my face for a moment. I didn’t know what she was looking for, but I doubted she found anything but confusion. My mom was not known for her maternal instincts, but her eyes were sad when she patted my hand.

  “It’s from Luke, honey. He called about an hour ago and dropped it off, along with that.” An hour ago? It wasn’t like Luke to be up before noon unless his ass was on fire. It was part of the reason we were getting married at dusk, so he wouldn’t have to get up too early. He was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, even worse than my mom and sister. I followed my mother’s finger and turned around in my chair to look at whatever she was pointing at behind me. A navy blue garment bag embossed with the logo of the bridal boutique hung over the top of the pantry door. On the floor beneath it sat a shiny pair of dress shoes. I stared at them as my brain tried to process the implications.

  “Why is Luke’s tux here, Mom? I thought he was getting ready at our place in town tomorrow morning.” The confusion was real and I could hear the panic in my voice. My heart was quicker than my head. It was starting to suspect what the presence of that garment bag meant.

  She didn’t answer me, just waved at Mac to hand me the envelope she still clutched in her hand. Reluctance was written all over her face, but she gave it to me. My name was scrawled across the front of it in unfamiliar handwriting. I stared at the stranger's handwriting for a long time, delaying the inevitable. Now that I had it in my hands, I wasn't so sure I wanted to know what was inside. Not today, the day before our wedding. But turning my back on that innocuous-looking envelope wouldn’t change a damn thing, so I took a deep breath and opened it. Inside was a single, folded sheet of notebook paper. I unfolded it and began to read.

  Cassidy-

  I know this is probably bad timing, but I’m not going to be there tomorrow. Sorry. You know that the band is starting to get noticed and I need to focus on that. I don’t want the responsibilities of marriage and all the crap that goes along with it, you know? Not when I finally might have the chance to live out all my dreams. I just can’t be tied down right now. The band has to come first. It always has and I can’t turn my back on that now, not when we are finally so close to having it all. You’ve always understood how it goes and been totally supportive of us, so I know you’ll get why I’m leaving. Gotta ride the wave for as long as I can, right?! But it’s been fun, though, hasn’t it?

  No hard feelings-

  Luke

  P.S. I borrowed some money from the savings account. Hope you don’t mind.

  What the fuck? His note was too damn short to be the end of a relationship. Twelve years thrown away in what? Ten or eleven sentences? It sounded like it came from somebody I barely knew, not the man I had loved for more than a decade. But one thing about the note was abundantly clear. He sure as hell had never loved me back.

  I looked up to find everyone staring at me, waiting for me to say something, to say anything. But I had no words. I was beyond thinking straight, beyond being able to form coherent sentences. My fingers let go and the paper drifted to the table. My mom picked it up and raised an eyebrow in question. I shrugged helplessly and watched in silence as they each took a turn reading the words that Luke had left for me, words that ended my world as I knew it. I was numb with shock and I could see it reflected in their faces, too.

  “Probably bad timing? No hard feelings? It’s been fun?” My sister shrieked in her disbelief, spit flying as she yelled. “How big an idiot is this guy?” Mac’s face was red with anger, in full big-sister mode. It was a good thing for Luke’s continued well-being that he was long gone.

  I hunched over my mug and tried to fight through the chaos in my head. My family talked over one another, reading and rereading the note, but I ignored it. I sat there, silent and numb, my brain on overload. Hurt and angry… I had no idea which one to give in to. I didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or laugh at the ridiculous “apology” Luke left me. My brain just couldn’t comprehend the truth… that I just got dumped the day before our wedding. This shit doesn’t happen in real life. A month or two, even a week before, maybe. But not the day before. My life had become one of those sappy “chick” movies that I hated so much.

  I pushed back away from the table and stood up, taking my coffee and the envelope with me. I tossed the envelope on the counter and stared through it, not even really seeing it. But something eventually broke through the chaos of my thoughts and caught my eye. I snatched the envelope off the counter and looked down at my name written across it. I already knew the handwriting wasn’t Luke’s, but what I hadn’t noticed before was that it was a woman’s. What the fuck? I turned the envelope over without knowing what I was looking for until I saw it. A barely there smudge of pink lip gloss. Son of a bitch. The band AND a bimbo?

  Until I heard the crash of ceramic in the stainless steel sink, I didn’t realize that I had thrown my mug. Suddenly, I knew exactly what to feel. Rage. The classless bastard had dumped me the day before our wedding. And if that wasn't bad enough, he'd done it in a half-assed note. On a sheet of notebook paper stuffed into an envelope covered in some other woman’s DNA. Asshat move. The language that came out of my mouth as I stalked around the kitchen was enough to rival the most hardened prison inmate in the state penitentiary. I’d never been so angry.

  It wasn’t until Mom stood up and put a hand on my shoulder that I stopped pacing. She gently pushed me back into my chair and thumbed away tears that I didn’t even know were falling. Hurt overcame rage and I completely lost it. In seconds, I felt hands on me, trying to comfort me. I sobbed for what seemed like hours, until I was drained and ready to collapse from exhaustion.

  When I got myself under control again, I disentangled myself and walked over to the sink under the window. I was too keyed to sit anymore. The sink was still full of shards from the shattered mug and I started to gather them, needing a distraction. Blood streamed down my hand when I sliced my finger on one of the pieces. I held it under a stream of icy water and watched my blood swirl down the drain. It hurt like hell, but the pain in my finger was nothing compared to what Luke had done to my heart. I was about to spiral into another meltdown when I heard Grandma Fiona’s lilting Irish brogue behind me.

  “Fuck him, darling. He’s a rat bastard who has never been good enough for our Cassidy! If you like, I would be happy to cast a spell on him for you. I could turn him into a cockroach, or perhaps a snake?”

&nbs
p; Hearing my Irish-born grandmother swear like a sailor set me into hysterics, although it was possible my current emotional state had something to do with that. I turned around to find her standing with one hand on her hip and the other wielding a wooden spoon like a wand. She brandished it in the air, almost smacking my mother across the face in her zeal. If I gave the word, she would have her cauldron bubbling on the old wood stove, throwing who knows what into her magical brew. It was tempting, but I declined. Grandma and magic, like my hair and neatness, were two things that didn't always go well together. But the string of inventive curse words that sprang from her lips were enough, sending us all into gales of much needed laughter.

  I spent the rest of the day on an emotional roller coaster, one that almost scared me in its intensity. I was like a crazy woman. Sometimes I curled into a ball on the couch sobbing. Other times, I stomped around the house in a rage while my mother tried to herd me away from anything breakable. There were times I laughed so hard my stomach hurt when my sister and best friend took turns tearing apart Luke's character. I listened with too rapt attention as my father explained in great detail what he would like to do to Luke and his man parts, Grandma Fi adding her own colorful commentary.

  But late that night, after everyone else was already in bed, reality set in. It was over and I was on my own. Tomorrow I would go home to an empty house. I stood alone on the end of the dock, looking out at the deserted river. I was still mad as hell, but I was hurt, too, and that was all I could feel as I stood there in the dark. I had wasted a dozen years of my life on Luke and for what? Knowing that he had probably never loved me was like a knife in the heart. It hurt and I felt like an idiot for ever having loved him at all.

  In my hands, I held my dress for a wedding that would never happen. The moment I saw it, I loved it. But now I hated it. It was a thorn in my side, a reminder of his betrayal and what we would never have, what we had never had at all. I wanted it gone, along with any trace and any memory of Luke. I balled up the expensive dress and threw it away from me into the river. I watched as it floated in front of me. A current caught the edge and began carrying it away. I turned my back on it and walked away, not seeing it when it finally sank out of sight. I will never let anyone hurt me like this again.