Happily Ever After: Fractured Fairy Tale Anthology

by Dana Piazzi

  Date #5 – Sneezy Eagan

  Divine set me up with her brother-in-law, Eagan. I wasn’t sure at the time what was worse—being set up with a member of her family, or the fact that I knew Eagan so well. We had dated in high school, back when I thought he was a nice guy. He wasn’t. He had cheated on me the night of our six month anniversary, with my study buddy. I had never had the heart to tell Divine.

  It turned out that I’d had a lucky escape. Just the year before our grown up date, Eagan had been diagnosed with allergies up the wazoo. He was so highly allergic to nearly everything I could think of that he carried a bag of supplies around with him everywhere he went.

  I let him pick the date, since I already knew the night was going to be a bust. Typically, for Eagan, he chose a film he wanted to see; some slasher movie that made my teeth itch. I hid my face in his shoulder most of the way through. Me and horror movies didn’t mesh; we never had. And Eagan knew this. Or at least, he should have.

  For most of the movie, he sat beside me, sneezing into countless tissues and apologising to everyone around us. By the time the film was over, I felt more sympathy for the guy than I ever thought possible.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the ER?” I asked, convinced there was something more wrong with him than just allergies.

  “I’m sure,” he said, while blowing his nose for the twentieth time. He pulled the tissue away from his red nose and let out a sigh. I only needed a single glance to see the blood on it.

  “I’m serious, Eagan. You need a doctor,” I insisted, refusing to take no for an answer. He pulled a face cloth from his satchel and held it to his nose, reluctantly nodding his head. I’m sure you can guess where we ended up after that.

  I spent two hours in the ER with him, waiting for a doctor, and finally had to stoop very low just to get him seen. I caught Doc Martinez as he whizzed through, on a consult for a child in the next bay. I talked his ear off for five minutes about how brilliant he had been on our date even though we weren’t right for each other. I made Eagan out to be the love of my life, suffering needlessly because of someone else’s misdiagnosis.

  I think I made a pretty good actress that night, because Eagan was suddenly surrounded by two doctors from the ENT department and ushered into his own bay. Within ten minutes, after giving a full medical history, which the poor guy had printed up on a sheet of paper that he carried around with him in his bag, he was whisked off. I got to wait in the waiting room while he was taken for an X-ray and a CT scan. Then I was allowed in with him again.

  “Koe,” He said, his words sounding muffled through the towel he held to his nose.

  “You’re still bleeding?” I asked, shocked that no one had done anything about it yet. Eagan smiled at me and removed the cloth, as he tilted his head back.

  “They gave me an injection to stop the bleeding. It needs a little while to kick it,” he explained, before covering up his nose and letting his head rest in a more comfortable position. Then, surprise of all surprises, he reached out and held my hand. “I ory,” he muttered. I managed to get the gist of that one, so I let it slide and gave him a smile.

  “No need. You’re sick and it can’t be helped,” I promised.

  I really did feel bad for him, especially since he let out an almighty sneeze a second later and moaned in pain. All I could do was rub his shoulder and say stupid things about how he would feel better soon. I knew nothing, and no one was telling me anything. He had to remove the towel again before he could speak clearly enough for me to understand him.

  “For cheating. I’m sorry for hurting you. You were a good girl and I messed up,” he said, giving me a weak smile through the pain. I had to be honest, though; I didn’t hold any grudges. I still thought he wasn’t a brilliant guy, which I guess was just me holding on to the past, so I decided to throw that idea out the window. People changed, after all. “You deserved better,” Eagan claimed, just before coughing and then sneezing. The combination seemed to really hurt, so I took his hand in mine and perched on the bed, readying myself for a long wait.

  “We were kids, Eagan. We all do stupid things when we’re kids. It’s all forgotten now,” I reassured him, although I was pretty sure I still had an old shoebox of memories from that time—that I would really have to get rid of. I found it when I got home and put everything in the trash to give Eagan a clean slate. “Do you want me to call Divine, or your brother?” I asked. I had Divine’s number on speed dial, but his brother, Diego’s was in my phone book somewhere. I would have to remember where if I planned to call him.

  “Nope. Maybe when you get home,” he said, sounding tired.

  “I’m staying right here, with you. I’m not leaving you alone,” I swore. And I was stunned to find that I meant it. “I’ll stay until you have a room for the night or get sent home. Then I’ll call Diego so he knows where you are,” I promised. Eagan nodded and gripped my hand a little tighter.

  “I’m sorry I ruined our date,” he muttered quietly.

  “Nonsense. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months,” I admitted. It was sad because it was the truth. Eagan tried to laugh, only to wince in pain and grip my hand so hard that he left his mark there for the next week. I didn’t blame him. I was too busy trying to hide my teary eyes and the regret that I’d never kept in touch with him all those years.

  It wasn’t until the next day that the doctors discovered what was wrong with him. He had a misfire of nerves in his brain that caused his allergies. His nose bleeds were caused by a burst blood vessel in his brain; it would repair itself and then burst on a regular basis. I had never heard anything like it, but I understood how serious it was.

  Four operations later, over the course of this last year, and I’m very glad to report that Eagan is right as rain. No more nose bleeds or allergies. We just had a little party for him a week ago to celebrate his release from the hospital. We talk on the phone every other week and I’m working on finding him the right girl. It helps that He Who Hovers Over Shoulders has a few connections in that department. And more than a few of them have been oohing and aahing over Eagan’s story of recovery this year. I think it’s a safe bet to say that he’ll be settled down before another year has gone by.

  I’ve got my fingers crossed.

  Chapter 4

  Date #6 – Dopey O.P.

  In between my dates, I didn’t have much time for anything else. Most of the days were spent writing and seeing to Heathcliffe’s needs and, of course, writing in my journal about the disastrous dates I’d had so far. All in all, though, I have to admit that back then I was having a lot of fun. Meeting Dash and finding Eagan again had both been positive experiences, only dulled slightly by the rotten luck of three bad dates in between.

  Ardelle’s choice was a designer that she had featured in her magazine. He went by O.P. claiming that his given name hampered his creativity. I clocked him as being just like Sleepy Deek very early on. Ruled by his muse and disinclined to follow logic, we didn’t get on right from the start.

  In fact, our date to a rundown warehouse gave me a very clear sign of where things were likely to go if I continued to see him. I saw dilapidated buildings, second hand upcycled furniture, and a lot of skips in my future. He actually told me that he didn’t like my name, right off the bat. Apparently me, my parents, and everyone I’d ever known in my life were spelling it wrong. Go figure!

  Nothing at all interesting happened on that date that I feel I should tell you. Unfortunately, for my eager fans, waiting to hear the next disaster story, O.P. was simply a bad blind date, like every other bad blind date. Two people shoved together who have nothing in common.

  The only interesting thing that happened that night, was the call I got from Ellie.

  “Don’t hang up on me. I want to talk about your date tomorrow night,” she said the minute I picked up the phone.

  “Okay,” I agreed, rather skeptically. Ellie is, after all, the Queen of one off flings and I had very
little hope that she would find someone more suitable for me than my much more stable friends had. Even the girls who were married hadn’t been able to succeed, so I highly doubted Ellie could.

  “Let me just say, to start with, that on paper he seems all wrong for you. He’s unemployed, by choice. He’s living with his parents in the country and he has a big dog that could probably eat Heath for breakfast,” she explained in a rush. Already this guy sounded like a dud. “But, trust me, Khlo. I know you. I’m your best friend and I’m asking you to make a real effort. He’s not had an easy time of it and he needs you as much as you need him.”

  There, I got interested. Ellie never begged anyone for anything. I was intrigued more than anything, so I kept my mouth shut as promised and let her ramble.

  “He’s coming by tomorrow at one to pick you up. Dress casual, because I expect you’ll be getting dirty.”

  And with that, she hung up on me.

  That’s the thing about Ellie; she’s smart, sophisticated, and playful, but she’s never believed in saying anything that didn’t need said. There are no hellos or goodbyes when you talk to her; just Ellie getting straight to the point. It’s just one of the many, many things I love about her.

  Date #7 – Happy Humphrey

  Six down and one to go.

  I’ll admit that when Ellie told me about my last date, I was more interested in the warning phone call she’d given me than anything else. She’s a firm believer that life has to be lived and experienced, rather than shied away from because of fear. I even got a text early on Sunday morning, saying that his name was Humphrey and he would be picking me up around one. I figured I had a lot of time to kill, especially since I’d been told to wear something that could get dirty.

  To me, this translated as jeans and an old jumper, so that I could be comfortable but able to get stuck in with whatever our date entailed. Really, I just got dressed for an ordinary day and sat writing on my laptop, with Heath at my side, while I waited for one o’clock to roll round.

  My plans were scuppered when someone knocked on my door at five to twelve. I didn’t have time to check my hair or look out the window onto the street and I had no clue who would be visiting me when all my friends knew I was going on a date in an hour’s time. I presumed it was Ellie, stopping by to make sure I was presentable and not going to chicken out on my last date, or the deal we’d made. So when I opened the door and found a tall, dark haired man on my doorstep, I was more than just a little surprised.

  “Oh, hey. I’m Humphrey,” he said, smiling a little as he held his hand out. I was stunned, but I managed to at least reach out to take his hand. “Sorry I’m a little early,” he apologised. “I have a little problem.”

  And me, well, being me, I would normally have come back with something to excuse his being early, to suggest we reschedule if it was inconvenient for him. But this guy was…there are no words to describe what happened to me.

  I was speechless.

  I stood there, like a dummy, staring at his stunning brown eyes, letting my gaze rake over that body. Gosh, that body.

  Excuse me while I fan myself.

  I have a confession. When Ellie said his name was Humphrey, my novel writing mind classified him as boring and dull. That’s kind of how things are in my writing world. Readers want a character to have a name that suits their personality, so when they’re rough and ready, they should be called Ty, Matt, Grant, or Chad. Something short and sweet. When they’re a multimillionaire about to sweep a naïve girl off her feet, they should be sophisticated and debonair like Charles, Quentin, or Marshall. Humphrey, in writing, is the name you give to the geeky best friend, who, by the end of the book, loses the girl to the millionaire or the guitar player, or the executive manager.

  This guy? This Humphrey was the guitar player, millionaire, rough and ready cowboy, and the geeky best friend all rolled into one.

  Maybe that can explain why I was speechless. Either way, I was just glad I wasn’t drooling.

  “Khloe?” He looked concerned when he reached out and touched my shoulder. I’m still not sure if I was swaying or looked vacant, but he was worried and I snapped out of my daze.

  “Um…Ellie said you wouldn’t be by until one. I’m not…” I looked around like a prat, searching for a way of excusing the mess I was in. I was so not dressed for this guy.

  “That’s El, for sure. She’s always talking over people,” he commented gruffly. His voice was just as incredible as the rest of him, but I gave him his first strike for dissing my best friend and actually sounding like he meant it. “I told her around noon. She clearly wasn’t listening. Anyway, I was hoping you’d be ready. I’ve got a foal on the way and I’m planning to get back before that happens,” he said, as if I was some microwave meal that he could just shovel down and then get back to work after consuming. I was determined not to let that happen.

  “Oh really? Well, I’m ready, but…do you want a hand with the birthing? I did this once, a long time ago,” I admitted, giving him my best smile. Okay, so it had been ten years at the least, and at the time I’d only done it to impress my father, who had bought a farm with his retirement money. I barely visited the place because I didn’t have time and he always came into the city to see me. But I knew I could do it.

  Humphrey looked at his watch and made a bit of a face. I could tell his mind was solely on the foal about to come into the world, so I kept a look of convincing confidence and waited for his decision.

  “Sure, why not. I’ve got my brother out to give me a hand in case it gets too much, so we should we fine. I was planning to take you out that way, anyway.” He nodded, holding his hand out to me. It was strong, callused in all the right ways. My spine positively tingled at the look of this big strong guy, all natural and normal. This was my idea of a perfect guy. He worked hard, even if he didn’t have a job, and so what if he lived with his parents? He had a farm and he knew the meaning of loyalty and hard work. I knew that already, of course, because I knew what it took to birth a foal and work on a farm, from my father.

  Already this guy had more positives than strikes against him. Things were actually looking up.

  “Just give me a minute. I need to check the dog and grab a bag,” I apologised, since I wasn’t ready to walk out the door although I’d implied it. I rushed inside and grabbed a bag before shoving all my necessities into it and slung it over my neck. I caught Heathcliffe taking a long drink from his dish in the kitchen and knew he was trying to stop me from leaving again. He did it every single time.

  “Come on, Heath, let’s go,” I said, clapping my hands to get his attention. He looked up at me, clearly decided I was not interesting, and ignored me. It took an unfamiliar presence behind me to gain his attention and then he did the oddest thing. He got up, walked past me to Humphrey, and parked his butt right in front of him. “Huh. He never takes to strangers this well. Except maybe Dash.” I pondered that thought curiously.

  Dash, I could understand, since I’d been comfortable with him by the time Heath even noticed he was there. But neither of us knew Humphrey, and I hadn’t actually invited him into my apartment.

  “Hey, bud.” Humphrey smiled and sank down to his haunches with ease. I stared like a fan-girl, biting my lip, and watching those jeans tighten in all the right places. My date cupped Heath’s small head in his big hands and rubbed behind both ears; Heath dropped and splayed out for more attention. I was so jealous. Why couldn’t Humphrey run his hands over my stomach that way?

  “You’re such a smart boy,” he cooed, scratching his side where he hit the sweet spot. Heath started scratching mid-air, only impressing me all the more. That first strike looked more and more ridiculous. “Great dog. What’s his name?” Humphrey asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  “Heathcliffe.”

  “Wuthering Heights?” he guessed, looking up at me with those dark eyes, giving me a killer smile that made my knees weak. I nodded and he laughed. “My mum’s favourite novel. I don’t get it
myself. Cathy’s a pretentious socialite, and Heathcliffe is a bad tempered git. I don’t get what everyone loves about it so much,” he confessed. My heart sped up then, because those were my own thoughts about it, too. I only named my dog after Heathcliffe because he was a bad tempered grump when he woke up and threw diva fits when he didn’t get what he wanted.

  “I agree. I guess it’s the same reason my own books sell so well. The everlasting hope of a happily ever after.” I shrugged, only to curse myself for bringing up my work. Generally, I didn’t like to admit what I did to big manly men like Humphrey. With nearly six-foot height, strong work ethic, and broad shoulders, I was convinced he wouldn’t approve of me writing romance novels.

  “Except your novels don’t all have happy endings,” he said, throwing me for a loop.

  “Sorry?”

  “Well, they don’t, do they?” he asked, as if I’d never read one of my own books before. “Your first three are happy-for-now, at best, and your young adult books are a heck of a lot more realistic about love,” he said as he got to his feet, leaving both Heath and I disappointed. I was quite engrossed in the way his long fingers moved over that little dog with gentle, contained strokes.

  “Um…yeah. That’s what I was going for, anyway,” I agreed. “You’ve read my books?”

  “Every one,” Humphrey announced proudly. “I’ve got a little sister who loves them. She’s seventeen, right at that awkward age where love is everything and nothing all at once. She’s got bad dyslexia, though, and she’s deaf so books are kind of a big deal for her. Audio books are a no-go and reading is difficult, so I read to her.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal that he read all of my books to his teenage sister so that she could escape into the worlds I created.

  Is it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly? I mean, it wasn’t exactly at first sight, but it was pretty close, right? If so, that’s where I felt I was at that moment. Falling crazily in love with Humphrey. Who I barely knew.