by Kay Harris
I see Chelsea arrive at the restaurant. She waits outside the door for a few minutes. Then a man approaches her. He is tall and thin with short hair. I can’t tell from here if he’s handsome, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. What matters is what Chelsea thinks of him. I tense when he scoops her up in a hug. She laughs and kisses his cheek, and it grates on my nerves.
They enter the restaurant together. I am torn between trying to find a way to see inside and to do the right thing and leave altogether. I’m just about to bug out, when they reappear. They are accompanied by a waitress who seats them at a small table in the outside area, surrounded by a short metal fence. The table they’ve been assigned gives me a perfect view of them, and so I stay put, rooted to the ground, this concrete building glued to my back.
I can’t hear them, of course, and I know this is pointless. I don’t actually believe Chelsea is going to suddenly launch herself out of her seat, kiss Gary passionately, then walk to the nearest hotel with him.
But what I am worried about is she’ll look at him the way she looks at me most of the time. It’s this amazing expression she gets as she gazes down at me after sex, or while we’re sitting across the table from one another, or while we’re cuddling on the couch. But lately, she’s been looking more frustrated than enamored. And it scares the hell out of me.
They are talking and eating, and I’m standing there watching them, like it’s a movie, when she scans the area around her. It happens so fast I don’t have time to move. And when her eyes lock onto mine, I know I’m screwed.
Chelsea gets up out of her chair in one fluid movement. She turns away from me for a split second to say something to Gary. He looks over at me and frowns. But he stays in his seat as Chelsea walks into the restaurant.
I don’t know why I am not fleeing. But I’m not. I hold my ground as Chelsea reappears out of the front door of the restaurant and stands at the edge of the sidewalk directly across from me.
I push off the building at my back and take a step forward as Chelsea looks both ways quickly before jaywalking across the street. She reaches me in a heartbeat, and I stand there, ready to take the punishment I deserve.
She walks right up to me, her face just inches from mine. She looks up and says sternly, “Henry. I don’t even have the words.”
“I’m sorry,” I say simply, unable to come up with any valid excuse for my horrendous behavior.
She turns on her heel and marches right back to Gary.
****
I’m sitting in Chelsea’s living room, my leg obsessively bouncing up and down. I’m watching the front door, anticipating Chelsea’s return, and I’m scared shitless. I’ve been waiting about an hour when the door swings open. Chelsea walks inside, slams the door behind her, throws her purse on the floor and stomps over to me, a deep grimace on her face.
“I know you’re pissed,” I say, “and you have every right to be.”
“Well, thank you so much for the permission,” she snaps.
“It was a horrible thing to do,” I admit.
“Agreed!”
“You are probably considering kicking me to the curb right now. And I wouldn’t blame you.”
“The thought definitely crossed my mind.”
She is standing in front of me, and I’m sitting on the couch. As much as I want to pull her down into my lap, for now, it is probably best she have the upper hand. “So what can I do to convince you to keep me around?”
“Well, you can start with an explanation,” she demands, her hands planted on her hips.
“I am crazy, mad in love with you,” I say simply. As I say it, I feel like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders. And I can’t for the life of me figure out why I’d been carrying it around all this time.
Chelsea’s mouth drops open, her arms fall to her sides, and she stares at me for a long moment. “What?” she finally says in a whisper.
“I’m in love with you, Chels. I have been for a while. I’ve just been too stubborn to admit it. I want you. I want you so bad it causes me physical pain sometimes. And because I’ve never told you, because I’ve stubbornly refused to take our relationship to the next level, I was risking losing you. So, I was insecure, and I didn’t even know it.” I take a deep breath. I am talking very fast, and I try to slow myself down. “I was so insecure, Chels, when I got jealous of Gary, I got downright crazy.”
She’s watching me intently through this speech. And now, as I wind down, a tear slips from her eye. I hold my arms out and she falls into my lap. I pull Chelsea close to me, holding on to her as if my life depends on it. And in a way, it does.
****
Eight months later—Los Angeles, California
This is embarrassing as hell. I guess having spent last year’s birthday away from my crazy-ass family, I’d managed to forget how absolutely nutty they get about the occasion.
I officially moved in with Chelsea the very next day after the stalking incident. With each other’s encouragement, support, and love, we’ve both been advancing our careers. I am selling my stories as a freelance writer, and I’ve recently started writing a novel. Chelsea’s short was aired on PBS, and now she’s working on a full-length doc for them.
I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am to have spent the last year with Chelsea at my side. And today I am also one year older.
My family is all here, gathered at my parents’ place and celebrating as if I’d won the Nobel prize in literature, instead of merely being born on this day. We’ve already had an elaborate dinner followed by a succulent dessert. Then the ladies had gotten into the cocktails.
Now we’ve finally retired to one of my favorite places, the backyard. We’re sitting around a bonfire, the orange glow illuminating the dark night. Chelsea is sitting beside me, looking like an angel in a white dress and strappy sandals. The light from the fire bounces off her glasses and reflects her warm smile.
Everyone else has taken up a seat around the fire as well. We’re all squeezed in, sitting in a variety of chairs—all except my dad. An empty seat beside me awaits him. And when he does appear, he’s carrying three guitar cases. He hands one to my Uncle Hank, he hands me one case, and then lowers himself into the waiting seat with his own battered guitar case.
Chelsea watches with excitement as we pull out the instruments. She’s seen us play before, but she never seems to get tired of it. And I’m glad she’s excited because tonight is going to be different, and I want her to be paying close attention.
My dad and my uncle are on board with my plan. So they don’t mess around. As soon as we’re situated, they both start strumming their guitars. I join in and watch the confused look on Chelsea’s face.
I think she recognizes the tune in that way people sometimes do. You know you know the song, but your brain doesn’t quite kick in until the singing begins.
We drag the intro out a bit, then I start to sing. Chelsea’s face begins to glow with a massive smile as I weave out the lyrics to “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen.
By the time I finish, she looks like the happiest woman in the world. She’s grinning from ear to ear. I hand my guitar blindly to my dad, my gaze still on Chelsea while she claps wildly along with the rest of family. Then I fall to my knees in front her, grasping both of her hands in mine.
Chelsea stills. The background noise from my family quickly becomes a deep silence.
I can hear my own heart beating in my chest. “Chels. You are my best friend. And you are also so much more than that. You know I love you. You know I want to be with you all the time. You literally light up my life.” I take a deep breath. “I know I didn’t jump into our relationship the way you would have liked. And I know it doesn’t make for a very good story for our kids. But I’m hoping maybe you could start the story here, with me telling you that you are all I want. You are my present and my future, Chels.” The speed of my heart kicks up a notch. “And I’m hoping you will do me the great honor of being my wife.”
Chelsea
is completely still. She looks like a statue. And I start to worry. I’m pretty sure my entire family is holding their breath. There isn’t a single sound out here aside from the crackle of the fire burning up the wood, consuming the bark and cambium.
Time seems to stop until finally Chelsea moves. She throws her arms around me and buries her face in my neck. I feel moisture on my skin and hear a small sob.
“Chels?” I ask, holding her close.
She lifts her head and sniffs. “Yes, Henry. I’ll marry you,” she says, her voice breaking.
It’s as if a wall has collapsed, or a balloon is popped, or time has simply restarted. My family begins to clap and shout and cry out. And I pull Chelsea to me and kiss her, feeling like this crazy ride I got on nearly two years ago has led me to the greatest destination I can imagine.
Epilogue
One year later—Sausalito, California
My wife is incredible.
My wife. She’s been that for a little over an hour now. I look over at her and wonder how the hell I got so lucky.
Chelsea throws her head back and laughs at something Tom has just whispered in her ear. I reach out and grasp her hand. She turns her head and smiles at me. It’s radiant.
“Did you like the dinner?” she asks me.
I shrug. In truth, I hardly ate any of it. I am still living in that moment when Chelsea and I looked each other in the eye and said, “I do.” I’m having a hard time concentrating on the noise and gaiety of the reception. I just want to take Chelsea back to our hotel room and get her naked.
She leans over and kisses me lightly. “I have to go to the little girls’ room before we start dancing,” she says. Her lips brush my ear as she strives to be heard over the din of a hundred people eating and talking. I shiver and nod.
While Chelsea is gone with her mom and Candace to do whatever it is she has to do to pee in that dress, I scan the massive dining room. My father and my uncles are gathered around one of the tables, done eating and onto plotting. I’m sure they will take over the stage soon. It sits ready for them, the drum set quietly sitting behind the two guitars and one bass, leaned on stands and waiting for the geniuses that will soon make them weep for my guests.
Beyond the stage is a set of grand french doors leading out to a wooden deck overlooking the Bay. Candace’s friend, Meg, walks through the doors and back into the room. Behind her Hayden is still on the deck, pacing its length.
I get up and walk to the door, curious about my brother-in-law. As I open the door and the fresh night air hits me, I take a closer look at him.
We’ve gotten to know each other a little over the past two years. And in all that time, I’ve never seen Hayden look so anxious. He always seems so laid back and relaxed to me.
“Hey, brother,” I say, slapping him on the back.
He grins at me. “Hi, Henry.” He shakes my hand for like the third time today. “I’m really am glad you married my baby sister, man. I mean that.”
“Thanks.” I lean on the railing next to him. “I’m pretty freaking happy about it, too.”
“You two are perfect for each other.” He says it almost wistfully.
“Is…uh…is everything all right?”
“Huh.” He snorts out a half laugh and runs his hand through his hair. “I think I just got myself into something.”
“With Meg or your date?” I hoped to hell it wasn’t his date. She was a hot mess if I’d ever seen one.
“Meg,” he says on a sigh.
“Really?” This surprises me. I happen to know he and Meg can’t stand each other. They are truly opposites. They make even Jack and Candace look like they have a lot in common.
“Not like that.” He turns to face me. “You know I hired her to be my secretary, right?”
I nod. The whole family is still trying to figure that one out.
“Well, I think I just hired her to be my matchmaker, too?”
I laugh. “You think.”
“She’s kind of a force to be reckoned with.”
“True,” I agree. I’d spent enough time with the strong-willed artist to know that.
“She talked me into letting her find me a potential wife. For a fee, of course.”
I shake my head as if this will help clear it. “What?” Hayden is a consummate playboy. The idea of him with a wife is a foreign concept.
Then again, the idea of me with a wife was once pretty far-fetched too. I suppress a smile at the thought.
Hayden lets out a long breath. “I need to settle down. I’m the CEO of the company now. I need stability. I can’t be running around with girls like Shanda.” He gestures toward the dining room. I look through the glass door and see his date riding on the lap of my cousin Danny. She’s drunk and horny, and soon to be very disappointed.
“No argument there. She might end up in a fight with Danny’s boyfriend.”
Hayden laughs.
I turn back to him. “Do you think Meg can do it? Find you a great little woman?” I sound a little irreverent, but I do want to know.
Hayden shrugs. “Probably not. But it could be entertaining to let her try. Besides, she obviously needs the money.”
I heard Candace and Chelsea talking about this the other day. Something is going on with Meg, but she’s being completely tightlipped about whatever it is. Candace could easily help her out. Hell, Chelsea and I could, too, these days. But she won’t hear of it. And now she’s turned to Hayden, working for him to earn extra cash.
“Should be interesting.”
“Hmmm.” He pauses, obviously deep in thought. Then he looks past me through the windows in the french doors. “I think you gotta go, man.”
I turn to follow his gaze and see Chelsea. She’s standing in the middle of the dance floor alone. My father and my uncle have taken up their spots on stage. All that is missing for the first dance is me.
I race into the room, Hayden at my heels. He turns one way. I turn the other. In a few strides, I have Chelsea gathered up in my arms and my father starts to strum his guitar.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say softly.
She shakes her head and smiles. “You’re right on time.”
We start to move. And Chelsea’s grin grows wider. She only discovered I could dance last week. I don’t know why she was surprised. I have a million aunts and an overbearing mom. Surely she had to realize they would have taught me to dance.
She loves my moves.
I rest my forehead against hers as we float fluidly across the floor. My dad’s voice is soft and low, creating a backdrop for the movement of our bodies. “Did I tell you how amazing you look today?”
“Yes. A few times, actually.”
“And did I mention how badly I want to get you naked?”
She nods, making her forehead rub against mine.
I swing her around and look out at our family and friends. They are all smiling at us, happy we’ve found each other. My mother is crying again. My sister is laughing, no doubt at the silly, satisfied look on my face. And Hayden looks sad, like he never expects to have what I have.
A word about the author…
Kay Harris has had a diverse career with jobs ranging from college professor to park ranger. Now she adds author to her repertoire. Kay writes romance novels that contain a little bit of sweet, a dash of sexy, a touch of heartbreak, and a whole lot of fun!
Kay grew up in the Midwest and has since lived all over the western United States including Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and California. She loves to hike, is obsessed with museums, and enjoys taking her extremely tall and very handsome husband on adventures.
http://kayharrisauthor.com
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
If you enjoyed the story, we would appreciate your letting others know by leaving a review.
For other wonderful stories,
please visit our on-line bookstore.
>
Kay Harris, Lost on the Road to Love