by Naomi Niles
Chapter Twenty
AMBER
“Amber! There’s someone here to see you!” Joyce was yelling at me from the front. I was in the middle of a session.
“Busy!” I yelled back.
“Can you just take a little break and come out?” she asked me, sticking her head in the back.
“Joyce…”
“Two minutes,” she said.
“Do you mind, Mr. Moyer?”
“No, Amber, my old hip could use a break,” he said. “Just don’t forget me,” he said with a wink. He was a seventy-two year old who had hip replacement surgery recently. He was a shameless old flirt, but adorable.
“I could never,” I told him. I followed Joyce out front, wondering what the hell could be so important. The largest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen sat in a three foot tall vase in the center of the lobby. They were tropical flowers and I could even smell them from where I was standing. “Oh my gosh! They’re so pretty! Who brought them?”
“The florist dropped them off, but there’s more, I’ll finish up with Mr. Moyer. You go out front. Take your lunch break.”
“I don’t want to just ditch him in the middle of a session.”
“You do for this. Go.”
She was acting crazy. I grabbed my coat and scarf off the rack in the lobby and pulled them on. I pushed through the door and there was Dylan with a horse drawn carriage. Dylan was dressed in a black sweater and jeans and new black boots and cowboy hat. He was clean shaven – and he looked good enough to eat. Slowly over the past couple of weeks after I forced Kyle out of my conscious thoughts, I was able to start seeing Dylan the way I had when I’d fallen in love with him. “What is all of this?”
“It’s your birthday,” he said.
I laughed. “Yes, I know. I was there when I was born. Those flowers in there would have been quite enough. Where are we going on this guy?”
“You’ll see,” he said. He helped me up into the white buggy and followed me in. The driver tipped his hat and as he took off, Dylan covered me up with a thick blanket. The driver took us through downtown and we ultimately ended up at White Rock Lake.
As the driver parked the buggy, Dylan reached behind the seat and pulled out a picnic basket. “I brought lunch,” he said with a grin. This was all so out of character for him, it freaked me out a little bit.
“I can’t believe you did all of this.”
He slid down off the buggy and helped me down. “It’s about time, don’t you think?” I just smiled and followed him over to a plush spot on the grass and watched him spread out the blanket. When he finished, he reached for my hand. I thought he wanted to help me sit down and I didn’t even notice he was on one knee until he flipped open the little box in his hand. “Amber, will you marry me?”
My mind was racing. I couldn’t believe he was proposing. I couldn’t believe I had waited so long for this and now I was just not sure. I couldn’t believe he went so far out of his comfort zone to do all of this for me.
That was the bottom line. Everything he’d done for the past four months had been for me, or at least, for us. I smiled at him through the tears of confusion in my eyes and said, “Yes Dylan. I’ll marry you.” He looked relieved. He slid the ring on my finger. It was a little big, but it was gorgeous.
Coming to his feet, he said, “If you don’t like it, we can exchange it.”
“I love it. Did you pick it out by yourself?”
“Not really. My mom went with me.”
“Well, you both did well. I love it. Thank you.” He took me into his arms and kissed me. It was a kiss like we used to share in the old days, and it actually sent chills through me.
When he broke the kiss, he looked into my eyes and said, “Thank you, Amber. Thank you for helping me clean up my life and thank you for sticking by my side. I don’t know what I’d do without you and I can’t stand the thought of ever having to find out. I love you.”
That was the longest speech Dylan ever made in the history of our relationship. Things sure had changed…for the better. “I love you, too.”
I kissed him again and for a second while I was kissing my fiancé, my mind flashed over to Kyle. I hadn’t seen him for six weeks now. Every so often I thought about texting to tell him I hope that he was doing well, but that would be like scratching off a scab for me. It would start bleeding all over again and eventually form a scar. I left it alone and now that I saw how happy I’d made Dylan, I was glad… For the most part.
*******
That night after work, Dylan went out to his father’s ranch to drop off one of the horses for the vet to see. I held my phone in my hand for a long time, trying to prepare myself for giving this news to my mother, father, and sisters. I practiced it out loud…and then again, adding: “Please don’t say anything until I finish.” I knew at least one, if not all of them, were going to interrupt me halfway through and demand to know what the hell I was thinking, so I prepared a speech in my head about me and Dylan, how well he’s been doing, and how well we’re doing as a couple… I was still scared. I finally pushed in Marlene’s number and waited. She’d at least been around a few times and could see how happy he’s made me lately.
“Hey, little sister, I was just about to call you. Happy Birthday!”
“Hey, thank you. I got your Facebook message, too, that was cute.”
“You’re welcome; are you having a good one?”
“Yeah, it was really good. Dylan sent me flowers at work and then took me in a carriage ride and for a picnic.”
“Hmm.”
I laughed nervously. “Really, Marlene? Hmm… That’s all you have to say? That’s monumental for Dylan.”
“I’ll agree with you on that. He’s still on his best behavior.”
“And, why is that not a good thing?”
She hesitated. “I’m just afraid it won’t last.”
“You know, for a while after we first got together I felt that way, too, but you really don’t know about anyone, do you? I mean, anyone can change, right? Look at you and Steve.” Steve was Marlene’s ex-husband who was currently battling her for custody of Nona. She hesitated longer this time and said,
“Okay, I’ll give you that. I’m glad he stopped showing his ass.” I laughed again.
“Well, I have more news…”
“What?”
“Dylan proposed to me today…and I said yes.” I waited…and waited…finally I said, “Marlene? Are you there?”
She cleared her throat. I think she was actually crying. “Amber, honey, are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
She didn’t have much to say after that. She didn’t congratulate me and she didn’t mention the lunch date we had with my mom, dad, and sisters this weekend at the ranch to have a family celebration for my birthday. I didn’t call my mom or my other sisters. I decided I’d just tell them this weekend and let them all tell me how stupid I am at once.
Instead of planning a big wedding, I was already thinking that maybe Dylan and I should go to Vegas. Nobody in either family was going to be overly happy about it. His family thinks I’m as much of the problem as mine does him. None of them have even spoken to me since the night I had him arrested. I’m surprised his mother was willing to help him pick out a ring. My dad wouldn’t even allow Dylan to set foot on the ranch since Marlene told him what he said that night about burning her house down. It was all so depressing and the more I thought about it, the more depressed I became.
I sat there looking at my pretty ring and felt sorry for myself. When Dylan came home, he found me sitting in the dark in tears. I told him how I felt about our families as he held me and let me cry. When I’d calmed down some he said,
“If you could get married anywhere you want, where would it be?”
“I’ve always wanted to get married on the ranch like Marlene and Steve did by the lake.” When I was a kid, my dad had a lake put in on our property. Over the years, he’s had trees planted and grass and flowers
. It’s like a secret garden. My sister had her wedding there and it was the most beautiful wedding I’d ever been to. I always imagined getting married there, too. He pulled me in tighter to his chest and kissed the top of my head,
“Then, that’s where we’ll get married. I’ll go talk to your dad in the morning.” That made me cry harder. First of all that he would do that for me, and second of all because I knew Daddy would say no.
Chapter Twenty-One
KYLE
Callie and I sat in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. I had finished my last radiation treatment two weeks ago and today I’d had my scan. The radiologist was here, so he and Dr. Grant were behind closed doors looking at it while we waited. Callie gripped onto my hand like she was expecting the worst. It was really sweet of her to be here. We’ve only been dating for less than a month, so it wasn’t like I expected her to come, but she insisted. The only problem was that she was so nervous it was actually worse than being here listening to Sarah complain about how long they’re taking or how badly the office needs to be repainted.
“Kyle?” The nurse came out of the back. “Dr. Grant is ready to see you now.” I stood up and brought Callie to her feet with me.
“You want me to go back with you?”
“Of course. You sat here with me all day. You get to hear the good news with me.”
She smiled. “Thank you,” she said, like I was inviting her to lunch instead of the inner sanctum of my oncologist’s office.
Dr. Grant and Dr. Bromfield, the radiologist, were both waiting for us. I introduced Callie as we sat down. Dr. Grant had the MRI in front of him, and he handed it to me. I stared at it for a minute and then said, “I really don’t know what I’m looking at.”
“Well, son, you are looking at a clean bill of health right there. The radiation didn’t just shrink it. Can you see the difference in this one?” He lay the picture of my last MRI down next to this one. The only difference I could see was a spot that looked lit up, like a little nightlight in my head.
“The light is gone,” I said as I pointed to it.
He smiled. “The light, as you call it, was the tumor. The contrast picks it up on the MRI as light. When the tissue is dead or gone, there’s no light. After your surgery, the part we left because of the blood vessels still lit up on the scans. Once it began growing, the light got bigger. No light now means all dead tissue.”
I smiled as I processed what he was saying. There wasn’t any left like last time. It was all gone. “Really?” I finally asked. I felt Callie clamp down on my hand.
He chuckled. “Really. I wouldn’t lie.”
I remembered all of the times he told me bad news and knew he didn’t have a big problem with that, so he had to be telling it to me straight. “That’s awesome. Thank you both.”
“You did the hard work,” Dr. Grant said after they both shook my hand. “I still want to follow up with you every three months for the next year, though, okay? Don’t go MIA on me with your newfound tumor-less brain.”
I laughed. “You give me the appointment Doc, and I’ll be here.” I thanked them again and as we were leaving the office he said,
“Kyle?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to therapy?”
“Um, no, I finished that right before my radiation.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You look great, don’t get me wrong, but you’re still dragging that foot a little.”
I looked down at it to keep from looking him in the eyes and said, “I get lazy sometimes when I’m tired, but most of the time, it’s okay. Thanks, Doc.” I pulled Callie out behind me before he could say anything else. When we got into the lobby she hugged me.
“I’m so happy for you!” she said. “But what he said about therapy…”
“The therapist signed off on it,” I said, letting it go at that. “I’m happy for me, too. How about we go out somewhere really nice tonight and celebrate?”
“I’m always up for somewhere really nice,” she said with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”
“What about The French Room?”
Her pretty eyes went wide. “Really?” she looked at the time on her phone. “Could you get a reservation this late?”
The French Room was a high end restaurant that’s actually been on almost every show about food on television and every magazine, as well. It’s not a place I go often, but I actually helped with designs on some of the renovations a few years back. The place was built in 1912 and they wanted the renovations to fit with the old style architecture. I love old buildings and it’s kind of my specialty. The manager and I are tight and I happen to know he sets aside a couple of tables on Friday and Saturday nights for what he calls his “special” guests.
“I think I can swing it,” I told her as we got into her car. Driving was going to be my next step. I still worried a little about how heavy my foot got sometimes.
“I’ve never been there! I’m so excited,” she squealed. Before she started up the car, she leaned over and covered my mouth with hers. I let my tongue slide up against hers and brought my hand up and cupped one of her breasts. I ran my thumb back and forth across the hard nipple as we kissed. When she pulled back, she was panting. “If you don’t stop that, I’ll never make it home in time to get ready for tonight.”
I grinned. “We could always do The French Room tomorrow…”
“No way, mister! We’ll do THAT afterwards.” I rolled my eyes, but smiled. She very enthusiastically participated in sex and although I’d never felt as overwhelmingly attracted to her in bed as I did Amber, it was still good…and Callie didn’t have an ex-boyfriend she wanted instead of me.
*******
Callie picked me back up at eight that evening. I’d gotten us a reservation for eight-thirty. I opened the door and nearly choked, she looked so damned fine. “Wow!”
“You like?” She twirled around. She was wearing a dress that came to just above her ankles. It was made out of sheer black lace and slit all the way up the front to her waist. Underneath it was some kind of black body suit that covered all of the important things, but shit, it had my imagination working overtime. She had on a pair of black cowboy boots with it and her long hair was twisted into a braid on the side of her head. It was lying against her right breast and I couldn’t help but think how lucky it was to be there.
“Like doesn’t quite cover it. I’m not really hungry…”
She giggled. “Get your coat handsome. Later, remember.”
I sighed and slipped on my jacket. “Speaking of coats, it’s the middle of November and you’re walking around in a…very nice handkerchief…”
She laughed. “I have a coat in the car. I wanted to show off.”
“That you did,” I said as I switched off the light. My mouth was dry and I was probably going to have to ask her to leave the coat on all night or I wouldn’t be able to walk for the wood in the way.
She let me rest my hand on the upper part of her silky thigh on the way. I tried moving it up a few times, but got smacked for my troubles. I couldn’t wait for this dinner to be over. She pulled up in front of the hotel, and I saw the valet checking her out as she slipped into her coat. I grinned at him and slipped him a twenty as I slid my arm around her and walked her away. Poor guy.
The manager Jean Paul greeted us warmly, and I introduced Callie to him. “So, what are we celebrating?” he asked.
Jean Paul didn’t know about my illness, I worked with him before it happened. I just said, “A clean bill of health after a really big scare.”
He looked from me to Callie trying to decide which one of us it was and then as he decided it didn’t matter, he showed us to our table and brought over a bottle of wine. “This is one of my personal favorites,” he said. “Please make a toast to the continued good health of two beautiful young people…for me.”
“Thank you.”
After he left, the waiter opened and poured our wine, and when he was gone Callie said, “T
his place is so beautiful!”
“Yeah, it is.” The tables were pretty close together, but something about the way they are arranged and the soft music playing overhead made it seem like we were the only ones there. I couldn’t imagine wanting to look at anyone else anyway, with Callie sitting across from me and looking as hot as she did tonight.
The waiter came back and Callie ordered the Salmon and I got the roasted duck. My dad used to hunt a lot when I was a kid and I loved duck season. Sarah was always a good cook, although I’m sure it’ll taste a little different made by an award-winning chef.
“So what did you help them design?” Callie asked me.
“They had some problems with the structure of the roof. I helped them re-design it so they could keep the authenticity of the look and make it sound at the same time.”
She smiled. “You’re so smart.”
“Right and you’re the one in law school.”
“Not quite, but soon. I can’t wait to be a lawyer. I was looking at some literature for the Innocence Project the other day. I’m thinking about volunteering some of my time.”
“That’s the organization that helps people who were convicted wrongly, right?”
“Yep. My dad worked with them Pro-Bono for a while. He said it was really satisfying.”
“Isn’t everyone in prison innocent, though?” I asked her with a smile.
“Some of them really are smarty pants.”
“So, how do they decide which cases to take?”
“They get letters or calls from thousands of people. They screen them and find out if there’s any new evidence, like DNA or something. They go talk to the inmate and each one of the attorneys brings the ones they want to take on to the table. They decide from there depending on manpower and urgency of the case, which ones to take.”
“So when school is all said and done, I’m guessing you want to be a defense attorney?”
“Yeah, for sure. Prosecutors are politicians, in my opinion. They work for the government and with the police and their goal is to incarcerate. I think we incarcerate too much in this country.” I didn’t exactly agree with her, but it was too soon in our relationship to get political, so I just nodded.