by Denise Wells
“Four years ago, tonight, I met her and she rocked my world. I’m happy to say I’ve never been the same,” he says. A few catcalls and whistles bounce around the room. I feel myself starting to blush. He jumps down from the stage and starts walking toward me.
Lexie lets out a little screech, practically bouncing in her seat.
“Now, I don’t have a lot of practice with this, I’ve only done it once before,” he says. “And my timing wasn’t the best. So, this is where you all come in.” He reaches our table and stands there looking at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear his eyes are shining with tears.
“I need your help,” he says as he gets down to one knee.
Holy.
Shit.
Fuck.
Piss.
“In convincing this woman to become my wife.” He pulls a ring from his pocket.
The same ring.
And he holds it out to me.
“Should she say yes?” he asks the crowd, looking only at me.
“YES!” I hear Lexie scream as she pounds on the table with her fists. All the drinks and plates bouncing in place. She’s not alone though, the word yes resounds through the room.
I can’t speak.
All I can do is look at him. This beautiful man who still wants to spend his life with me. After everything I’ve put him through and knowing everything I’ll probably put him through again.
He wants me.
The feeling is intoxicating.
I nod my head as tears spill over from my eyes to my cheeks.
“She said yes.” Ethan grabs the microphone from Brad and tells the crowd my answer. Amid the cheers, clapping, whistles and camera flashes, Brad takes my left hand in his and moves to put the ring on my finger.
Only, it won’t go past my knuckle. My fingers are too swollen from treatment.
He pushes a little harder, but it won’t budge.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I say. I stick my finger in my mouth and try to get it wet enough to slip the ring past my knuckle. It moves a little bit, but not enough. And I realize it now won’t move in either direction; my finger is starting to turn red and throb as it fills with blood.
“Ah! What do I do?” I ask the table shaking my finger.
“We could cut it off,” Ethan says.
“No!” Brad and I both say at the same time.
“I meant the ring,” Ethan says. “Jeez.”
“Still no!” I say.
“Stick it in ice water,” Remi says handing me a glass.
I put my finger in the ice water and it begins to feel better, and smaller, immediately. Once I can slide the ring back off again, I realize it’s not going back on. And my eyes start to fill with tears for a whole different reason.
“Baby?” Brad asks.
“I can’t wear my ring,” I say, starting to sob.
“We’ll get it sized,” he says.
“I don’t want it to be bigger,” I say.
I can feel snot dripping out of my nose. Remi hands me a napkin. I blow my nose and wipe my cheeks, realizing I’ve ruined my makeup.
“Remi,” I plead, holding up my black streaked napkin.
She and Lexie get up and drag me into the bathroom to repair my makeup. I can hear that the Chief is back up at the podium, making comments about the beautiful demonstration of love.
“Ha!” I say. “It might have been beautiful if my fat fucking fingers weren’t so fucking fat.”
“Sweetie,” Lexie says. “It happens all the time. Like when I get my period, it’s no big deal.”
“Let’s get you fixed up,” Remi says.
They repair my makeup and we head back to the table. I can see the boys bent over doing something. They straighten when we return. Brad has a shy smile on his face.
“I think I have a fix,” he says.
I look at him. He reaches up and puts something around my head. I look down and see that he’s tied some kind of black string together to make a necklace. The ring hanging as a pendant from the middle.
“How… ” I start to say.
Ethan holds up Brads dress shoes, now void of laces. I look under the table and see that Brad is in his socks.
The things this guy will do for me.
I grab his face and kiss him like I’ve never kissed him before. Trying to put all my love and gratitude into that one kiss so he can know just how much I need and love him.
He pulls back after a moment, his hands now framing my face, and says, “I know baby. Me too.”
That’s my guy for you.
He totally gets me.
And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.
No matter how long that may be.
Kat’s Sudden Death Playlist
We’ve Got Tonight – Bob Seger
She’s Got a Way – Billy Joel
Here Come’s a Regular – The Replacements
Never Let Me Go – Aretha Franklin
Lonely Sinking Feeling – Cowboy Junkies.
Last Request – Paolo Nutini
Tonight’s With You – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Yours – Blues Traveler
Romeo and Juliet – Dire Straits
You’ll Accompany Me – Bob Seger
Everlong – Foo Fighters
Maybe I’m Amazed – Paul McCartney
Wild Horses – The Rolling Stones
I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You – Tom Waits
I’m Not In Love – 10CC
Missing You – John Waite
Everything I Own – Bread
Jealous Guy – Bryan Ferry & Roxy Music
Stay – Lisa Loeb
Look What You’ve Done to Me – Boz Scaggs
When I Need You – Leo Sayer
You Are So Beautiful – Joe Cocker
Will You Still Love Me – Amy Winehouse
Without You – Harry Nilsson
Volcano – Damien Rice
The Man Who Can’t Be Moved – The Scripts
Photograph – Ed Sheeran
Still They Ride – Journey
I Go Crazy – Paul Davis
Against All Odds – Phil Collins
Someone Like You – Van Morrison
Wait – Sarah McLachlan
Video Games – Lana Del Rey
Hold Me Through The Night – Beth Hart
Goodbye My Lover - James Blunt
3:00 AM - Edwin McCain
Don’t Want To Miss A Thing - Aerosmith
If I Knew - Bruno Mars
All Night Long - Peter Murphy
Bell Bottom Blues - Derek and the Dominos
Hurt - Johnny Cash
You’re The One That I Want - The Lennings
Acknowledgments
Kat’s story has been through more re-writes and revisions than I can count. Though in my defense math was never my strongest subject. Get it? Counting… Math…
What hasn’t changed with Kat is my inspiration for writing her. This book is written for, and in memory of, Courtney McMillon Bonelli. I miss you every day, beautiful girl.
That said, I’ve got some people to thank for helping to shape this story into what it is today:
Rachel Radner - talented author, amazing CP, wonderful friend, emotional crutch, and voice of reason: I couldn’t do this without you. Not any of it. Thank you doesn’t feel like enough. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Ellie McLove - editor extraordinaire - Gray Ink: You fucking rock. NEVER EVER LEAVE ME. Please.
Linda Russell - Foreword PR: Thank you for holding my hand and helping me navigate through my first real, grown-up release. You are awesome!
Shari Ryan - MadHat Books: You saved my ass. Thank you for allowing me to take advantage of your creativity and talent.
A special thank you to Cal Fire Captain Michael V. Neal for helping me understand what’s involved in the life of the brave firefighters in Riverside and San Diego Counties. You shared freely and gave me more info than I knew I need
ed. Your service is appreciated. Note - any mistakes are mine and not his.
Scott Hoxie - your insight on rugby players and all their dirty deeds was not only helpful, but fascinating. Your time is very much appreciated. Again, any mistakes are mine and not his.
Sandi Nichols - your knowledge on guns is both scary and impressive. Thank you for helping me find a girly gun for Kat. I’m going to get shit for saying girly gun, aren’t I?
To the best office bitches in the world: Larutha, Bobeena, Bobeeta, Boberri, and Kristen (we never did get a catchy nickname for you, did we, Kristen?) - thank you for listening when I blathered on and on about all things “me” related where this book is concerned. And for giving me your opinions whether I wanted them or not. Ha! Just kidding, I always wanted them.
T. Greenwood - You were very kind in alerting me to the (huge) flaws in the early versions of this book. You were right. I wish I’d listened to you sooner.
It took me a while to get a feel for Kat’s Sudden Death Playlist and what kind of music she vibes to. I had help. Thank you to all my FB peeps who suggested their faves - it was super helpful.
And, a special thank you to Lorna Batting Luckinbill, Sandra Crayton, Timothy Flowers, Danyale Hambly Jones, Michelle Miles, Melissa Monasmith, and Sidney Taylor for suggesting songs that really resonated with Kat. She appreciates it.
I can’t function in life without my Remi IRL. Girl - you get me going when I stall, make me happy when I’m sad, and talk me down off every ledge I crawl on to. I love you. Soul sisters forever!
And, my beloved BW - I may fight you with every critique on my work, but damn if you aren’t usually right. How one man can be so lovable and so frustrating at the same time boggles my mind. Your love and support mean more to me than I can ever say. I love you. Thank you so very much.
About the Author
There’s not much to know about me. I’m a simple girl. I think.
I can’t live without nail polish, the darker the better.
I drink a glass of wine every day, but if I could get away with it, I’d drink a bottle. My favorite things to eat are chips with salsa. But red vines and popcorn are a close runner-up.
I currently reside with four dogs, two cats, and one husband. Three of my dogs are Siberian Huskies, so my clothes always have fur on them. Always.
Given the opportunity, I would read books all day long. So far my record for a single day is five full-length books.
Hoodies are my favorite item of clothing, bras are my least. Hats are my second favorite. They look good on my head. I’m lucky that way.
When I’m writing well, I’m barely reading. And vice-versa.
I’m a terrible dancer and have no rhythm. Like zero. Just ask my husband.
Sometimes I’ll go three days without washing my hair. Hence the hats.
I started an underground literary magazine in college, which I credit for really launching my narcissistic tendencies via writing.
If I couldn’t be a writer, I would be a rockstar. Someone from Journey, preferably the Steve Perry years.
Also by Denise Wells
Breaking Dylan
Let’s face it, no one wants to hear about my jacked-up life. The court-appointed therapist says I need to find my purpose. What does that even mean? I thought 16 was supposed to be sweet. I’ve gone from losing my virginity to losing myself. Supposedly, there’s nowhere left to go but up.
Love Undiscovered - coming July, 2018
Lose her Louboutins? No way in hell.
Remi never gambles without knowing she can win. So when her friends bet her Louboutins she can’t stay in a relationship for a month, it’s game on.
Chance is finished with relationships, but he needs money. With a couple grand on the line to thaw the ice queen, otherwise known as Remi, it’s challenge accepted.
One month. Four dates. No problem.