Seamless

by Griffin, R. L.

  It was the coolest venue she’d ever been to and she was there because of George. He was her knight in shining armor, here to save her soul. She smiled remembering his sincere words earlier today and the thought behind them. She never thought she’d be able to have that sort of love again, the love she thought she had with Jamie.

  They walked into the theater holding hands, shooting the shit about other people at the concert and the latest episode of Breaking Bad they’d both watched. It was so normal that her heart clenched. It had been so long since she thought maybe they could have a normal where they laughed at each other and unfortunate cases she was handling. She took his hand and felt light as they made their way to the concert.

  “I heard this show sold out in like three minutes,” Stella commented.

  “I think it was twelve, but thankfully there are people that buy tickets and then mark them up so that people like me can buy them for my hot girlfriend in order to get laid later.”

  “Oh, that’s guaranteed,” Stella assured him. “Where are our seats?”

  “It’s general admission, that’s why we’re here so early. Come on, let’s grab a place and then I’ll go get beer.”

  “Holy shit, this is amazing,” Stella observed from their stools on the balcony, looking over the railing to the floor below them and thanking God they had seats. There’s no way she could be down there with all those people around her for hours. She was too old for that shit.

  The concert was amazing. It would certainly go down as one of the coolest experiences she’d ever had. Everyone knew every song and sang as loud as they could with the band. The music filled her soul and let her forget everything else.

  When it was over, they held hands and walked back to the rental car.

  “I’m glad I don’t work for the FBI anymore.”

  “Why’s that?” George asked, rubbing his thumb on the palm of her right hand.

  “Because I think I’m high after that concert.” Stella laughed.

  “I know, there was a marijuana cloud filling the entire place.”

  Stella laid her head on his arm. “What was your favorite song?”

  “Well, I loved all the regulars, but I think my favorite was ‘The Ballad of Love and Hate.’” He squeezed her hand. “What was yours?”

  “All My Mistakes,” she said quietly.

  That was Stella’s deepest fear, one that she hadn’t shared with anyone. She hoped she was more than just the mistakes she’d made, because it would be a very sad fate for her otherwise.

  They sat on the back porch of the condo they were renting for the next three days, wrapped in each other and blankets. They’d gotten up really early and made the three hour drive to Aspen from Denver, had breakfast, and walked around a bit before heading back to the condo for an “afternoon delight.” Stella was awed by the mountains. The drive was one of those few moments in life that you slow down enough to acknowledge that there’s something out there bigger than you. Now she was completely relaxed, cupping her warm mug of coffee and looking at the serene, snow-covered mountain. She’d never seen anything close to the mountains that surrounded them.

  George reached out and tucked a flyaway lock of her raven hair behind her ear. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking it’s about time I tell you a few things.” She sighed. Stella had been putting off this conversation, which was easy when they weren’t seeing each other that often, but she felt like she owed it to him on their weekend, especially when he’d been so honest with her about his feelings.

  George took a sip of his own coffee and looked at the mountain too. “Okay.” His breath floated up and sailed off into the day.

  “So, you know how you’re always pissed because you think I’m ready to walk away from you?” Stella started.

  George blew out a long breath. “Yeah.”

  “It’s not that I’m ready to walk away from you,” she paused, turning her intense gaze to the mountains, watching as her breath came out like smoke and then rose with the wind, “it’s that I don’t think I’ll be around for long.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” George sat up straighter and she could feel his eyes on her.

  She didn’t turn to face him. “It means I’m pretty much living my life knowing I’ll die and thinking it’ll be sooner rather than later. I just don’t want this for you, George. You want forever with someone and I don’t know…” Her voice broke. “I don’t know if I can be your forever. God knows I’d love to, but I can’t even think about my future. When I try, all I see is black; a blank page that never gets written.”

  “Shit, El.” George ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair.

  They were silent, both contemplating that reality. Then George got up and walked inside, leaving her with the reality that he may just agree with her. Stella took a sip of her coffee and wondered if this might be what finally drove him from her.

  His thoughts scattered in a million directions and then, within seconds, things fit into place. Stella thinking that she would die soon explained why she acted the way she did. It wasn’t her leaving, it was her attempting to protect him in her own fucked up way. He walked into the room they were sharing and grabbed the grey box he’d had in his pocket for three weeks. He’d made such careful plans for tonight, but this felt right.

  Now.

  He walked back onto the porch. She hadn’t moved and a tear had seared down her cheek. He stood there, taking in her messy black waves and fresh face. This was the way he wanted her, just out of his bed, all the time. He couldn’t relate to the Stella Murphy that everyone saw on TV in press conferences. That woman was poised and perfect, wearing couture clothes perfectly planned and appropriate for every event. The El he loved was fucking flawed and she owned it. She didn’t need makeup or even underwear and was surly on a whim. She wore her pain like a badge. She was his Love and his heart. What he’d been seeing of her lately was something fake and foreign and nothing he could identify with.

  He cleared his throat and stood directly in front of her. “So, that was pretty fucking heavy for two o’clock in the afternoon. So I’ll see your forever and raise you.” He got down on one knee and held out the 15 carat emerald he’d bought for her. It was surrounded by diamonds and he knew she’d love it the minute he saw it. “You are the most complicated, challenging, baffling person I’ve ever come into contact with, let alone love with all my heart. I’ve had this ring for about a year, because I knew we’d get married. I don’t want forever without you. I want your forever. I hear you and understand what you’re telling me. What I want you to know is that as long as you’re here, you’re mine and I’m yours. Stop being scared about you and me. You aren’t scared about anything else.”

  A small sound escaped her throat and it made his heart hurt.

  “I need you to marry me,” he said again, still holding the box out to her, his hand barely trembling.

  “George,” she whispered, her voice full of longing.

  “Stop thinking and let me love you. I don’t need you protecting me; I need to know you aren’t going anywhere and you want to be with me as long as you’re here.”

  Stella nodded her head and a grin spread across her gorgeous lips. He slipped the ring on her finger, covering the tattoo he loved. He picked her up, which caused her mug to fall from her lap and break on the ground, but he didn’t care, the pieces and blankets abandoned as he carried her into the bedroom.

  She took her clothes off and donned the St. Regis robe the spa had provided. Stella walked to the front of the spa and smiled.

  The hostess smiled back. “Mrs. Finnegan, please follow me.”

  Stella didn’t correct her and followed her into a lounge where everything was beige and plush. White flowers decorated the lounge, food and tea adorned the perimeter of the room. The hostess showed Stella through the lounge into another room that was lit solely by the fireplace.

  “Mrs. Finnegan, please sit down and I’ll hook you up to our oxygen machine
s.”

  Oxygen? Stella hadn’t had any real altitude issues while in Aspen, even though she’d been short of breath. An oxygen machine wasn’t on her radar as part of a spa day.

  She plopped down on a chaise lounge chair and smiled to herself at the audacity of the situation; being engaged and getting oxygen before her massage at the St. Regis spa in Aspen. She didn’t belong here, but George made the reservation for her to get a massage and she wouldn’t turn that down. The hostess put the oxygen tube under her nose and offered her champagne. Fuck yeah. This is the life. Stella could get used to this. She closed her eyes and pretended she belonged here and let the joy of her engagement permeate her body.

  Mrs. Finnegan. Stella Murphy Finnegan. Begin again. She always loved that song.

  Stella and George’s trip was romantic and peaceful and exactly what she needed. They didn’t ski. To be honest, she was a little afraid of skiing. The altitude sort of kicked her ass and she had to be careful with how much she drank. She just wanted to stay in the bed, so that’s what they did, only venturing out on the porch or for food. They felt inconspicuous in Aspen, like no one knew who they were.

  Their last night there, they sat on a couch outside of a bar, huge heat lamps making it comfortable even in late November. They were drinking wine and lamenting the end of their vacation when Stella’s phone dinged a vox from Millie.

  “Magic Box, this is Lunch Box. I know you didn’t get fucking engaged and not tell me. You two are trending on Twitter. Hoping it’s a rumor; I don’t believe half the shit I see on there because of you, but let me know.”

  Stella looked at George. “I guess we haven’t been as off the radar as we thought.” She shrugged. George’s dimples had been constant since she told him she’d marry him. She was ecstatic she was the one that brought out those dimples. She pulled up her phone and looked through Twitter.

  #holymotherofrockonfbibeauty

  #bartenderproposedaspen

  #fbibeautyoffmarket

  #georgeputaringonit

  “I don’t mind trending on Twitter for this,” Stella admitted. This wouldn’t ruin her bliss. She wanted to tell her friends first, but she’d rather tell them tomorrow in person when she got back to DC. Then a thought crossed her mind. “Oh God! I have to tell my parents.”

  George took a sip of wine and grinned. His green wool cap was pulled down low on his head; it made his green flecks stand out. His cheeks were red from the cold.

  “Wait. Did you ask my dad? I know that’s sort of old school, but did you? Because he’ll be pissed if you didn’t.” Stella was talking a mile a minute.

  “I did.” His eyes lit up with his confession.

  “Wait. You did!” Stella tapped her dad’s face on her phone and looked at George. “You’re perfect. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Dad! Hey! Is Mom around too? I have some news.” Her voice sounded so giddy she hardly even recognized herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  House of Cards

  Stella had gone to work the Monday after Thanksgiving straight from Aspen and spent all day playing catch up and trying to get a grasp of the busy schedule ahead of her. She felt rejuvenated and couldn’t wait to tell her friends the details about her engagement. Her entire office was abuzz about the news. Greg had called her to confirm whether the rumors were true, but she told him to put everyone off until she had a chance to tell her loved ones. He said he would issue a statement in a few days.

  She walked into Billy’s house and Cooper came running and almost knocked her down with his body. Stella leaned down and hugged him and whispered in his ear, “I missed you too, Coop.” She smiled and rubbed him all over, scratching his belly where she knew he loved it.

  Then it was Millie’s turn to come running and almost knock her down. Millie grabbed her left hand and screamed. She started jumping up and down and Stella joined in, feeling like a complete idiot. Sure, she was excited, but she wasn’t the squealing girl Millie was about these sorts of things.

  “Wait, you are engaged, right? I mean, it’s not a diamond,” Millie clarified, “but this is totally you.”

  Stella laughed. “Yes, we’re engaged.”

  Millie began jumping up and down again. Patrick came into the kitchen from the porch and Millie pulled Stella towards him.

  “Look! Look!” Millie held out El’s left hand.

  Patrick looked at it, puzzled at first. Stella thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes, annoyance maybe, then a smile spread slowly across his face.

  “George and El are engaged!!!” Millie squealed.

  Stella shrugged and grinned like an idiot.

  “I thought engagement rings were diamonds?” Patrick asked.

  Millie stopped jumping, the delight falling from her face. “Patrick!” she scolded. “First you say congratulations, then you ask dumbass questions.”

  “Congratulations,” Patrick mimicked.

  The front door opened and Billy walked in with two cases of Yuengling. “What’s up?” he asked when he got into the kitchen.

  “I’m engaged!” Stella announced.

  “What?!” Billy’s smile was genuine; he set the beer on the floor and pulled her into a bear hug. “That’s a fucking big ass ring, El. I hope you’ve been lifting enough weights to carry it around,” he mocked, trying to lift her left hand and straining to get it up.

  Stella’s laugh cut through the room, which caused Millie and Patrick to start laughing too. “I know, it’s kind of obnoxious. I hope I don’t lose it. You guys know how I am.” Stella pulled her bag through the kitchen. “I’m going to drop this stuff downstairs and then we can all toast my good fortune. Can you believe someone’s crazy enough to love my ass?” she asked, pausing to look between her three ex-roommates. “I can stay, right?”

  “Of course!” Millie called.

  Stella twisted the ring around her finger; it was so big it covered most of her tattoo. She lay on the bed and Cooper jumped up and eased on top of her, pinning her down to the bed and licking her face.

  “I love you too, Cooper,” she told him in between licks.

  Stella stretched her entire body before opening her eyes. She was back in her old house; they’d eaten dinner together last night and drank way too much. It was like old times. Cooper climbed up her body and laid on top of her, licking her face in his version of a wakeup call.

  “Ugh, stop.” Stella swatted at Cooper. “Your breath stinks.” She wiped her face with the sheet. “That’s so gross. I only let you do that yesterday because I’d been gone. Don’t get used to it.”

  Cooper jumped off the bed and ran upstairs toward the back door. Stella straightened her tank top and followed him. When she opened the door, she was greeted with a foot of freshly fallen snow. It was an early snowstorm, and there were reports DC may get more snow today, which sent the masses to grocery stores to buy every last gallon of milk and loaf of bread. Damn, I’ll have to dig my car out. Cooper walked out onto the covered section of the porch gingerly and then jumped into the snow and disappeared as he hopped his way to the back of the fenced-in yard. Patrick opened his bedroom door and walked, shirtless, to the coffee maker. She was pretty sure his eyes were still closed.

  “So, we’re snowed in?” she asked, looking at the tiger tattooed on Patrick’s back.

  “Fucking great,” he said, adding coffee and water to the coffee maker.

  “Well, at least we don’t have to go to work hungover,” she shrugged.

  “Have you turned on the TV?” he asked, pushing the on button, not looking at her.

  “Not yet, but you know DC shuts down at like, six inches of snow, and it’s more than that because Cooper disappeared in the backyard.”

  Patrick laughed.

  “So, what’s up with you?” Stella asked, leaning against the counter next to him. “You were quiet last night.”

  “Nothing. Just got a lot going on, you know?” He pulled down mugs from the cabinet.

  Stella didn’t know if he w
as referring to their plan or something else. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” He leaned his hip against the counter.

  “You know you don’t have to do this, I…”

  “Y’all are up early.” Millie emerged from their room, her highlighted hair pulled back in an elegant high ponytail, ready for the day in a dress, tights and boots.

  “You know you’re not going to work today, right?” Stella commented.

  Cooper’s bark rang from outside and Stella turned to see his paws on the door, begging to come in.

  “Did it snow?” Millie asked, completely unaware.

  “Uh…yes. Looks like it’s a snow day,” Patrick confirmed, pointing out the window. “I’m going to get clothes on and shovel out the cars.”

  Millie walked to the den, looked out the window, and turned the news on. “Huh,” she huffed, falling into a chair, “I got dressed for nothing.”

  Stella went downstairs to put on a sweatshirt, then came back up and poured herself a cup of coffee, contemplating Patrick’s mood. She sat, drinking her coffee and watching the DC news anchor talk about all the closings. She checked her email and confirmed that her office was, in fact, closed. She finished her coffee and walked back to Millie and Patrick’s room, where she pulled one of Patrick’s all-weather jackets out of the closet and yelled to Millie, “Can I borrow your rain boots?”

  “Sure,” Mille answered. She was busy typing away on her laptop.

  Zipping up the jacket, Stella opened the front door and took a step into the snow. She sank to her knee. She loved the snow when it fell in the city and covered everything. It was like a makeover for the entire place; it covered all the ugly and made you only see the beautifulness of where you were. Once the snow had been there for a while, you started to remember the ugliness again. The snow turned black with dirt and the roads iced over, making them impossible to traverse. But for the time when the snow fell it was like heaven on earth, a quiet, lovely façade that melted away to reveal a gritty reality.

  “Patrick?” she called as she tried to maneuver through the snow.