Mr. Write Now

by Summer Wynter

  She nodded. “I thought that Brody would step off. All the television shows say that a bully backs off after a confrontation. Brody broke both of his arms and three of his ribs. Tyson lost a football scholarship to Penn State.”

  Rick felt shame wash through him. He hadn’t thought much about his struggling student except to disparage his intelligence and be irrationally jealous of Rosa’s closeness to him. He’d thought for sure that they’d been seeing each other casually, with the frequency she talked to him. He’d thought the boy was a lunk, a brainless meathead with a mediocre future, and that she could do better. Now he knew that the boy had been, and still was, a hero.

  “I was going to give him whatever he wanted after that.” Rosa sniffed, eyes brimming with sudden tears. “Tyson is my friend. Brody could have killed him. And it would have been my fault.”

  “No, it wouldn’t have.” He said fiercely. “None of this was your fault. How did Brody get out of the assault charge?”

  “Uncle Victor is a lawyer. He managed to get him probation and community service.”

  “And what happened then?” He prompted gently.

  “I told Tyson what I was going to do. He forbade me, of course. He told me to file a restraining order. I knew that wouldn’t keep him away for long. So I came here, with Tyson. I changed my name. I accessed my trust fund as little as possible. I paid everything in cash.” She shrugged. “It didn’t stop him from finding me. I started getting nervous a week or two before you and I started dating. I thought I saw his car when I was leaving to go home from Ferrell’s.”

  So that was why she’d always panicked when he’d tried to drive through the upscale neighborhood. A rich young man accustomed to getting his way was not likely to rent a room in a Motel Six. He wouldn’t be surprised if Brody had bought a house in Fayetteville for the express purpose of stalking Rosa.

  “You need to report him.”

  “How?” She cried. “As my uncle, the smug bastard, has pointed out to me on multiple occasions, stalking is hard to prove in court. I don’t have any evidence. It’s my word against his. And he’ll point out that he’s never actually done anything to me.”

  “But he will, Rosa. You know that.” He racked his brains, trying to come up with something he could make stick. “He trespassed. He came into your apartment without an invitation, and with the intent to cause you emotional distress.”

  “And he’ll point out that I never reported it to the police. My word against his, again.”

  Rick rubbed his temples. “Well, I guess we have come to the third reason I’ve asked you here then.”

  She reached for the empty sugar bowl in the center of the table and pulled it to her. She snubbed out her first cigarette, and lit another.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “This part really depends on your financial situation, I’m afraid.”

  She pursed her lips, staring at the smoldering end of her cigarette instead of meeting his eyes. “You want to know how much money I have access to. You want to know if I got cut off, right?”

  “Pretty much.” He admitted, heat rising into his cheeks.

  “I didn’t.” She let out another gusty sigh. “I have more than enough to pay my tuition three times over. That should give you an idea. I haven’t accessed my trust fund in over a year, and I haven’t been using my savings or checking accounts in over a month. I was afraid Brody would try to use them to find me.”

  “And now that he’s found you, the point is pretty much moot.”

  “Right.” She muttered. “What’s the plan?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Weeks passed where he tried to coax Rosa into dropping out. She was past the point her money could be refunded for the course, but she could certainly keep it from impacting her grade. She said she didn’t want to make a permanent decision until the situation with Brody had been taken care of.

  It was an infuriatingly slow grind, waiting to put the plan into action. Teaching was a paradise compared to the hours of anxiety and stress that was his life at home. He waited for the phone call from the school, from the authorities, from someone. It never came.

  The call that he finally received was the one he’d been hoping for.

  The trick after that was getting Melanie to show up. Somehow, finally, he managed it.

  “What the hell do you want Richard?” Don’t you have a Girl Scout meeting to attend with your girlfriend?” She sneered, pacing the front room.

  His smile was brittle. “You’re not an innocent on that front, are you Melanie?”

  His ex-wife paused in her relentless pacing, stopping in front of the TV, which she’d was supposed to take after the visit. They had gone half and half on it, and he’d offered it to her as a means to get her to come over.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, Mel.” He said, sitting down on the sofa. He reached toward the manila envelope he’d just picked up from his contact that very afternoon. He reached into the envelope and drew out a stack of shiny photographs. He flashed the first at Melanie.

  “Jeremy.” He listed, brandishing it in her direction. The young man in the photograph looked like he was twenty-one, if he was a day. “College junior. Biology major.”

  He produced a second photograph, showing it to her as well. “William. Twenty. Also a junior. Pursuing a degree in medicine. And quite a cutie by all appearances.”

  Melanie was staring slack jawed at the photos in his hand. She looked discomposed, which was a feat he couldn’t normally manage. Melanie was always poised.

  “So, now I see why you didn’t want me on campus.” He mused. “Both of them are students and the university. My university. You didn’t want me to spot you at it.”

  “That’s not-” She began.

  He pulled the third photograph from the envelope. This one was a familiar face, at least to him. It had been cropping up in his nightmares of late.

  “And finally we have Brody. Technically you can’t get in trouble for this one, as we were divorced when you started dating him.”

  He set the pictures aside. He steepled his fingers and fixed his ex-wife with a steely gaze. “So, was it that I was too plain, or too old for you, Melanie?”

  “Where did you get those photos?” Melanie whispered.

  “I hired a private investigator. He’s been tailing Brody as well. Sorry about your date tonight, I’m afraid it’s cancelled.”

  Melanie bristled. “What did you do to him?”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything. The Fayetteville Police Department however, are having a little talk with him ow. You see, he broke into Rosa’s apartment, again. Which would have only been trespass. But he apparently was packing an unregistered 9mm. So that upgraded it to a home invasion, and he tacked on an assault with a deadly weapon charge when he attempted to coerce his cousin into leaving with him.” He shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll be getting out of prison anytime soon.”

  Melanie’s mouth popped open in shock. “He said he was just checking in on her. He said she wasn’t well, and that she never took her medication.”

  “He’s been stalking her, Melanie, for years now. Honestly, did all the money distract you from the bat shit insanity?”

  She glared daggers at him. “This isn’t about me, Rick. This doesn’t change things one bit.”

  He laughed in her face, picking up the photos and waving them at her. “This changes everything Melanie. I have more than just this, you know. Surveillance from the restaurants you went to. Phone logs, bank records, and much, much more. No judge in his right mind would ignore the mountain of evidence I’ve turned up.”

  “So?” She asked petulantly. “You have a better case in court. I can still get custody.”

  “Actually, you can’t. You signed a pre-nuptial agreement. If I wanted, I could take you for everything you’re worth.”

  All color drained from Melanie’s face and she dragged herself over to an armchair. She sat down. Hard.

  “And what exactly is it you
want?” She asked.

  “Peace.” He said, putting the photos back into the manila envelope. “We share custody. I get Elle every weekend, and we alternate holidays. You date who you want, I date whomever I want. Neither of us will reveal the dirt we have on each other. Deal?”

  It seemed like a small eternity passed before Melanie spoke again. She sat in the armchair fuming, angry tears springing into her eyes.

  “Deal.” She finally spat. “I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.”

  “You’ll call him now.” He ordered.

  “Fine.” She snapped. He watched her dial, and listened to a portion of the call on speakerphone until he was satisfied. Then he took the envelope and retreated to the guest room, where he’d relocated the fireproof safe. He’d have to come up with a better solution later, but it would have to do for the time being.

  When he’d assured himself it was safe, he locked himself in the bathroom and dialed Rosa.

  “Is it all over?” She asked hopefully.

  “Yes. It all went according to plan.”

  “And what did you hear about Brody? The cops aren’t telling me much. They’ve just left. I was being questioned relentlessly for hours, you know.” She complained. She sounded like she had a cold, or she was pinching her nose.

  “He’s gone. You did a good job, by the way.”

  “I just did what you told me. My nose really hurts though. I didn’t expect him to punch me when I called 911.”

  He winced in sympathetic pain. He knew from one too many fights in college what that was like. “It’s probably broken. Sorry. I should have been there to stop him.”

  “No, Rick. I’m a big girl. I handled just fine by myself.”

  “So, you’re going to be okay?” He asked.

  “I’m shaky.” She admitted. “And my nose hurts. And I think my landlady is going to kick me out.”

  “Why? Surely not because of the assault?”

  “No. Because I haven’t been paying my rent.”

  “Rosa-” He began disapprovingly.

  “I was worried about Brody showing up at my door.” She cut him off. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll pay her. Maybe I’ll move out. This place is a dive anyways.”

  “Or you could stay with me.”

  There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. He waited, heart pounding for the answer.

  “You mean it?” She whispered.

  “I mean it.” He said.

  “….I really could kiss you right now, you know.” She said in an almost conversational tone.

  “Not with that nose. Get to a doctor, young lady.”

  “Eew, don’t act so paternal. I’ll never be able to call you ‘daddy’ now without grossing myself out.”

  “Ack. Please don’t. Ever.” He said, shuddering. “The age gap is bad enough, let’s not inject Freud into the middle of all of this.”

  “Probably not a good idea.” She agreed. She took a shaky breath that rattled over his speakers.

  “So, we’re going to do this?” He asked.

  “If you’re up for it daddy.” She mocked.

  “I’m going to ignore that and pick you up from urgent care in a few hours.”

  “Okay.” She said with a laugh.

  “Rosa?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.” He breathed.

  “And I love you. Thank you for saving me, Rick.”

  “Let’s just call it a joint effort.” He teased softly, repeating his words from their discussion a few weeks before. They’d gotten into this mess together, and they were going to survive it together, no matter what.

  “Yes, let’s.” She agreed.

  “And Rosa?” He said, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Your essay is due Monday.”

  She hung up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rick loved Arkansas summers. He loved the sun. He loved the sweaty afternoons toiling over the garden. He loved the sweet burst of watermelon on his tongue.

  But most of all he loved the Fourth of July. He’d spent four of them with Rosa now, and each was better than the last.

  They’d gone out with Elle to watch the public fireworks displays this year to celebrate Rosa’s recent graduation and her homecoming.

  She looked magnificent in the setting sun, the light breeze ruffling her red sundress.

  He was sitting at a picnic table, watching as Elle had a rose painted on her face. She insisted Rosa get one too, who agreed with a smile.

  Elle went over to him, snow cone in one hand, her small round face alight with happiness.

  “Is it time yet?” she asked eagerly, pointing at his bag.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Shh. Rosa will be done soon.”

  “Okay, daddy,” she nodded vigorously, blonde ponytail bobbing in time. He smiled and straightened her red and blue ribbons. He led Elle away by the hand and toward one of the many food vendors. The line was long, and the humidity seemed to physically press them down, but even so, nothing could dampen his spirits today.

  The sun was just beginning to set as they returned with the food. He’d bought hotdogs for himself and Elle, noodles for Rosa, sodas all around and a funnel cake to share.

  “Mmm. Fake cheese, powdered sugar and deep fried food,” Rosa said. “You do love me.”

  He just smiled and bit into his hot dog. The taste of mustard exploded on his tongue. He finished it in three bites and then the melting remains of Elle’s snow cone.

  A few minutes later, the first of the fireworks exploded overhead. Elle jumped, and Rosa pivoted on the bench to get a better look.

  Brilliant bursts of light exploded overhead.

  “It’s beautiful,” Rosa said.

  He scooted closer to her on the bench, breathing in the scent of her hair.

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  She turned her head to look at him, candy-apple lips turned upwards in a smile.

  “You charmer. Shh. Let’s watch the fireworks.”

  “In a minute,” he said, reaching for his bag. “I’ve got a gift for you.”

  He found what he was looking for at the very bottom.

  He pulled it out and showed her the long box. She smiled, and the flash of perfectly white teeth was dazzling into the darkness.

  “Sparklers? Oh, that’s really cute. Are we going to write our names in the air?”

  “No,” he said, opening the package and sliding its contents out into his palm. He got a fistful of the long objects inside, as well as the surprise he’d tucked into a few hours earlier. He set the sparklers aside and got a firmer grip on it.

  He dropped to one knee in the light of the exploding fireworks. Her eyes grew wide.

  “I thought I’d give you mine,” he took her hand. “Rosa, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Another firecracker went off overhead. His heart was a thunderous beat in his chest.

  “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, swallowing. What could she possibly have to ask now?

  “What the hell is your favorite romance?”

  He barked out a surprised laugh. “You’re asking this now?”

  “Well, I’d sort of like to know my fiancée’s favorite romance,” she laughed.

  He was grinning like a schoolboy. He could feel his cheeks would hurt if it grew any wider.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Please tell me.”

  “Anna Karenina.”

  She blinked. “Really? Why?”

  His smile became slightly sad, and he could feel the weight of years on his shoulders. “Because love isn’t perfect.”

  “Yes, I will marry you.”

  He slipped the ring onto her finger. It wasn’t as fancy as his wretched soon-to-be mother-in-law would probably have liked. Rosa wouldn’t care.

  She loved the simple things.

  “And you?” he asked, rising to his feet and pulling her close. “What’s your favor
ite romance?”

  She pulled him in for a scorching kiss.

  “Ours.”

  I'm just your normal, everyday woman who can't get enough out of life. When it comes to writing, I enjoy stories about couples who just can't say no, even when life says that they should.

  Come get passionate with me and see where my dirty little mind can take you.

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  Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/cpQOpn

  Cassidy’s Mail Order Bride

  (Your Bonus Sexy Old West Story)

  Abigale,

  Attached with this letter is the payment for your hand in marriage.

  My name is Cassidy Boone, I live in Oregon, and you're to be my wife. I'm the owner of a horse ranch with a neighboring farm, my house is big, and you'll be taken care of well here. Financially and otherwise.

  I expect to see your arrival here on Monday and I will be waiting for you at the train station. Please do not delay.

  So you are aware, our local priest has passed recently, and will be unable to perform the ceremony until the new one arrives from Louisiana. However, I consider you to be my wife already, and would appreciate if we could carry on as such once you arrive here with me.

  I look forward to your presence in my life, and meeting you will be on my thoughts until the moment I lay my eyes upon you.

  -Cassidy Boone, your husband

  The letter shook in my hand as I slowly set it down. Included between the page was an old, worn photograph. It was a little faded, but on it showed the face of a handsome, young man with chiseled features and long hair. He wasn't ugly, I realized, and smiled. My modern, small home in Minnesota was overrun with my younger siblings, and the town had grown stale for me. The thought of going so far away, all the way to Oregon, both excited and terrified me. Turning with a sharp intake of air, I started to pack my few belongings, throwing them into a potato sack and pinning my hair up.

  My future awaited, and I said goodbye to my family, and headed for the train the next morning. While sitting on the rough seats for the next several hours, I stared at my reflection in the window. A picture of myself had been posted in the advertisement, but it was one of my better ones. Would I still be found beautiful? I'd only just turned 18 a month before, and my long dark blonde hair never stayed pinned back properly. Instead it fell in loose waves around my face, framing my large blue eyes. Pa always would say the wind could blow me away with how skinny I am.