Passion in Portland 2016 Anthology

by Anthology

  “What about his rich family? Couldn’t they bail him out?”

  “As fake as his good, upstanding morals, I’m afraid,” Isaac confirms.

  I collapse against the back of the chair as I exclaim, “I was a couple of months away from marrying a total psychopath. What does that say about me?”

  “Nothing – except that you were young and naïve and not expecting someone to totally take advantage of you. You are smart and beautiful and didn’t deserve what was done to you,” Sam assures me, as he tries to warm my suddenly cold hands between his.

  Chapter 9

  Sam

  AS I WATCH JESSICA AND Taylor walk away, it’s easy to imagine Taylor staying in my life forever. Her eyes are sparkling with mirth as she laughs at something Jessica says while they are feeding a baby goat in the petting zoo. Without question, this has been the best week of my life and I don’t want it to end. Just like we’ve done every day since she’s been here, Taylor and I talked for hours until the sun came up after we took a tour of the Christmas lights on Peacock Lane. She probably knows more about me than any person on the planet. This is how I always thought a relationship with someone should be, but I’m still having a hard time believing that this is my life.

  Our relationship has been an incredible whirlwind. In my wildest dreams, I never expected for history to repeat itself. I never understood how my dad could fall for my mom in just a few days, yet I am in the same situation. Taylor is everything that I ever wanted in a partner. She’s smart, funny and she doesn’t seem to even notice my disability much. If she does, she doesn’t make a huge deal out of it—

  “Hey, weren’t you supposed to be taking pictures?” Jessica asks as she gently pokes me in the shoulder interrupting my thoughts.

  “I was,” I admit. “I just got distracted.”

  “Not that you asked my opinion, but I think Taylor is the perfect distraction for you. You guys are great together. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you so happy.”

  “Did you feed her to the lions or something?” I ask, looking around.

  Jessica shudders as she answers, “No, she and Mitch wanted to go look at something that requires climbing in high places and you know how I am about that. Quit trying to change the subject, Sam. It’s nothing bad. I was just trying to say that I am really happy that you guys are in a great place.”

  “Do you really think we’re in such a great place? I mean, she’s leaving. We haven’t even specifically talked about whether she feels the same way I do.”

  Jessica ducks her head close to mine and starts to speak in a soft, but intense voice, “Sam, I’ve never pulled any punches with you. Over the past few days, your girlfriend and I have been talking like long-lost best friends. What you guys have has taken her completely off guard, but she’s understandably nervous after what she’s been through. Taylor says that she’s never had anyone like you in her life — as a lover or anything else.”

  I blush clear to the roots of my hair as I respond, “Come on Jess, you’re just messing with me. There’s no way you guys talked about that. I figured she would keep that stuff between us.”

  “In her defense, I’m pretty good at getting people to tell me stuff that they don’t plan to. My grandpa is a pastor, remember? I learned from the best. You don’t need to worry, Sam; everything she told me came from a place of love and acceptance. She loves you like Mitch loves me.”

  “How can it possibly work? She’s leaving in just a few days. Who falls in love that quickly?”

  “Who says there has to be a time limit? When it’s right, it’s right. I knew there was something different about Mitch when I saw his picture on an online dating profile.”

  “I forgot about that. What about the fact that she’s leaving? How does our relationship survive all that?”

  “Everybody’s life has a little bit of crazy in it. It has been insane with Mitch setting up Hope’s Haven in Kansas while working with Tristan and Isaac in Florida. All I can say is thank goodness that Tristan has his own plane. Still, the time Mitch spends away from Kansas is very hard. We just have to love each other fiercely when we’re together and hope someday it will settle down.”

  As I watch Mitch and Taylor walk towards, us pointing to something on Mitch’s cell phone, I murmur to Jessica, “With all the stuff that’s going on, I just pray that hope is enough.”

  Taylor looks up at me and scrutinizes me carefully before asking, “What are you guys doing?”

  Looking at her steadily, I answer, “Planning for the future.”

  Taylor looks back and forth between Jessica and me with a curious, almost hostile expression, as she retorts, “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn Jessica already has a future planned with Mitch.”

  “Taylor, I was telling Jessica about what we talked about last night. I was telling her as improbable as it seems, I love you and want to try to figure out how to make it all work between us.”

  She sinks down on the bench next to my scooter and exclaims, “Samuel Jonathan Taylor! You just about gave me a heart attack. I’ve been so afraid that this was too good to be true that I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Do you mean it? Is this for real?”

  “For me, it’s as real as it gets. We just have to work out the details.”

  Taylor grins at me with tears in her eyes as she responds, “You do get the irony in all this? If we do this thing right, eventually my name is going to be Taylor Taylor when it’s all said and done. I’ll go from being the butt of all the bathroom jokes to something like a fancy law firm.”

  “Works for me,” I say, as I pull her into my lap and kiss her, much to the delight of Jessica who is happily taking pictures with her cellphone.

  “You know what? It works surprisingly well for me too. I’m so glad I didn’t decide to stay on the ship that day. I love you, Sam John.”

  Chapter 10

  Taylor

  I SWEAR I’M GOING TO THROW up. If Sam’s hand wasn’t at the small of my back as he carefully drives his scooter beside me, I still might. I really thought that I was going to pass out when we drove up to the big red building where the FBI is housed. It reminded me so much of the jail where I was required to go visit my dad before he committed suicide after he fractured my mom’s eye socket. The sensory memories were so strong that I struggled to breathe through them. Sam sensed my distress and helped me with some breathing exercises. He explained that he sometimes uses the breathing exercises to get through very intense muscle spasms.

  When we enter the conference room, Tristan and Isaac are already there, dressed in suits. It’s actually the first time I’ve seen Isaac look intimidating. Isaac clears a spot for Sam to sit beside me and he sits on the other side with Tristan sitting across from me. I feel like they’ve given me a barrier of protection from the unknown agents.

  It takes several minutes for the courthouse in Florida to get the technology working, but once they do, I can’t stop my involuntary recoil as Reid Weber’s face comes up bigger than life on the large TV. I flinch as the blood drains out of my face.

  Sam squeezes my knee as he whispers, “3,050 miles and a lifetime ago.”

  I take a drink of ice water and compose myself as I announce, “That’s Reid Weber, crooked hair plugs and all. You’ll find a scar in front of his left ear that’s pretty visible. He says it’s from playing baseball as a kid, but in light of what I’ve been told, it might actually be a plastic surgery scar.”

  An agent turns to me. “I forgot to tell you that Mr. Weber can hear everything you just said and it’ll be part of the court record.”

  “I assumed what I said would be under oath. I’m not afraid of the truth,” I answer with more confidence than I feel.

  Those words seem to shatter whatever composure Reid was struggling to maintain as he begins to screech at me, “You ungrateful little bitch! I knew I should’ve fenced that damn ring but I couldn’t get any pawnshops to cut off that stupid inventory number.”

  Just then, the
closed-circuit connection is abruptly cut off.

  I glance up at the agent and ask, “Is he under oath?”

  Tristan grins at me, “He is.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head as I ask, “Does he know that?”

  Tristan chuckles as he responds, “I never said the man was bright.”

  The senior agent closes the file in front of him and dismisses me, “Petty Officer John, it appears that your work here is done today; thank you for your time. The district attorney already has your affidavit.”

  As everyone is shuffling paperwork and preparing to leave, about a dozen cellphones start to go off, including mine. Tristan and Isaac manage to answer their phones first. Isaac scowls as he reads his phone. He looks up at me with a somber expression as he asks, “You got your go bag in the van?”

  Something in his tone makes me stand at attention as I admit, “No sir. I wasn’t expecting liberty to be over for several more days.”

  “If I don’t miss my guess, that message on your phone is the same one I got. I think your holiday leave just got canceled. You probably should go get your bag and say your goodbyes for now.”

  Epilogue

  Sam

  I ALWAYS KNEW THAT MY time with Taylor would be precious, but watching the phone call come in among all of those professionals who protect our country for a living was terrifying, sobering and enlightening all at the same time. I was so proud of Taylor for being one of the warriors who is on the frontline yet I’m terrified that something might happen to her.

  The ride back to the Naval base in Washington is weirdly electric. It seems as if we both know that we have so much to say and no time to say it. We are both lost in our thoughts, yet anxious to say a lifetime of words in case we don’t get another chance. I can’t seem to formulate my thoughts coherently, I don’t know if it’s the same for her — but I suspect it is.

  “From the moment I joined the Navy, the ship has felt like home. It was the place I wanted to be, my safe haven from a world of violence and fear I didn’t understand — but you helped me face down the monster in my dreams and nightmares and put my past where it belongs. For the first time, I can dream of the future again, a better future than I ever envisioned. As corny as this sounds, you have become my port in the storm, my safe place to be. Will you be here when I get back?” Taylor asks, her voice trembling with emotion.

  Taylor flashes her I.D. at the security guard on base and I pull my car into the parking spot. I reach into my coat pocket and pull out a box. “I know that these aren’t the circumstances under which I wanted to do this and I know you’ve had a tough history with rings — but let me tell you why I chose this one. This is a virtually unbreakable titanium ring — like the bond between the two of us. I know we haven’t known each other long, but even in Florida I felt a pull towards you, even when another man was prepared to put a ring on your finger. I have never met another person who has as much in common with me, yet can challenge me at the same time.”

  Taylor laughs softly as she declares, “I promise you as many rematches as you need to beat me at Trivial Pursuit.”

  I smile as I continue, “When we work with gems, we often work with counterweights. It is like your heart and soul are the perfect counterweight to mine. We met under the most unlikely circumstances. Some people might consider it a mistake. I’m not a big believer in mistakes; there was a purpose behind everything that happened to us. I want to give you this ring to remind you of the promise of my love.”

  Taylor’s hand is shaking as she holds it out for me to slide the ring on. “As they say, keep the home fires burning.”

  Epilogue

  Taylor

  FOR ONCE IN MY NAVAL career, I have someone at the bottom of the ramp waiting for me at the end of a deployment. Actually, thanks to Sam and his friends, there’s a whole bunch of someones, but I only have eyes for Sam. I always thought those vintage pictures from Life Magazine showing sailors being reunited with their families were so romantic. Now, I am about to reenact one.

  I can’t believe he drove all the way to California to meet the ship. He is decked out in a suit with a huge bouquet of red roses. I run my thumb over the edge of my promise ring. The past several months have reinforced my initial feelings for Sam and made them even deeper. We have written countless letters and journals to each other and I think he is single-handedly keeping Hallmark in business. My bunkmates are teasing me because he sends me so many little trinkets and stuffed animals.

  As I get closer, I watch as he unfurls a banner above his head, which reads, “Petty Officer John, are you ready to be Taylor Taylor?”

  “Yes, of course — for as many light years as you can count, Samuel John Taylor.”

  Sam turns to the crowd who are clapping wildly and says, “See? Didn’t I tell you she was perfect for me?”

  I passionately kiss him until I accidentally lean against the horn on his scooter causing it to beep. I bow when the crowd laughs. “As you can see, he’s perfect for me too.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Mary Crawford has been lucky enough to live her own version of a romance novel. She married the guy who kissed her at summer camp. He told her on the night they met that he was going to marry her and be the father of their children. Eventually she stopped giggling when he said it, and they just celebrated their 27th wedding anniversary. They have two children. The oldest is in medical school, where he recently found and married the love of his life, and the youngest will son venture into middle school

  Ms. Crawford writes full time now. She recently published her ninth book and has several more underway. She volunteers her time to a variety of causes and has worked as a Civil Rights Attorney and diversity advocate. Ms. Crawford spent several years working for various social service agencies before becoming an attorney. In her spare time, she loved to cook, decorate cakes and of course, obsessively, compulsively read.

  Email: Mary@MaryCrawfordAuthor.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/authormarycrawford

  Website: MaryCrawfordAuthor.com

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/MaryCrawfordAut

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8294383.Mary_Crawford

  Shy – Morgan & Jennifer Locklear

  Anthony Randall was so obsessive compulsive that if his arm were hanging by a thread, he would cut the thread. He didn’t suffer from a full-blown disorder, not yet anyway, but he did have particular guidelines concerning many personal procedure and social endeavors. Shoe polishing, for instance, had an established technique long before Anthony ever purchased his first pair of monk strap boots.

  Anthony enjoyed a sense of peace whenever he completed a task with the utmost efficiency and quality. Polishing a pair of wing tips was, for him, better than eating a cupcake. Other things he had a hyper awareness of included home security, fruit and produce selection, driver safety, baseball statistics, the Dewey Decimal System, Robert’s Rules of Order, chapstick application, vinyl record care and storage, the proper placement of a salad fork, laptop maintenance, and air travel etiquette.

  These traits, however, aided Anthony in becoming a gifted investigation attorney. He never missed a detail and he always pulled at every loose thread even if all he was left with was a handful of string. He was as well dressed as he was well liked, but his colleagues still hadn’t figured out his big secret.

  Clear green eyes and a bright smile aided him greatly with conversations in the office. An engaging presence went a long way toward making Anthony appear more involved in any discussion no matter how little he spoke. He was grateful for the luck. It was difficult to hide the truth, especially from other observant attorneys.

  He was shy.

  Devastatingly shy.

  It was different in the courtroom. That was his stage, his arena of expertise. Whether he was addressing a judge or a jury, he could articulate better than a tractor auctioneer. But when the gavel pounded his voice back into his throat and he was approached in the hal
l or the parking lot or, worst of all, the bathroom he would remain as silent as slippers.

  As late December threatened to deliver an unusual snowstorm to Portland, Anthony drove his Mercedes-Benz M Class (widely hailed as one of the safest cars of the year) across the Steel Bridge. He was keeping pace with the Amtrak train below him, unaware of even doing so.

  The Rose City wore Christmas like a spiffy party vest, topped perfectly by a thirty foot tall lighted martini glass on the West Hills that was visible even during the day. Anthony had been working for a private firm downtown since the Christmas before and was rumored to be the youngest partner to ever have his name commissioned on their Fox Tower lobby sign.

  After parking his car in the subterranean garage, he rode the elevator to the nineteenth floor. His task was simple. He’d drop off a few case files and then make sure the vertical blinds in his office were evenly spaced before leaving town for the weekend.

  “Hello Sage,” he greeted his administrative assistant as he was closing up his office and she was returning from her morning break. The petite woman with short blond hair carried a coffee cup in one hand while staring at her phone. She hadn’t noticed Anthony and jumped at the sound of his mild, smooth voice.

  “What are you doing here?” she exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you again until Monday.”