The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!
Page 15
“I don’t think so.”
“I like them because they represent the catharsis of change. We all have the power to transform our lives. We can’t change the past or what we were. But we can use our experiences to help mold us into the people we want to be today and tomorrow.”
“That’s really beautiful.”
A soft breeze brushed my hair out of my face. “I think I’ve always had this deep seated fear that every man was like my dad. He never accepted me for who I really was. He wanted me to be who he wanted me to be. When you started fussing about my cats, I had so many memories of growing up and being unable to please my parents.”
“I don’t want you to change, Sierra.” He squeezed my arm.
“I know that. I really do. I’m sorry I’ve been acting the way I have. My emotions got the best of me.”
“I haven’t exactly been a saint.” He pulled me closer. “You really would choose me over your cats, when it comes down to it. You proved that.”
“Of course I would. I’m sorry I let you think otherwise.” I rested my hand on his chest. “Chad, I’ve been miserable this week without you. Like, totally miserable. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more compromising. I’m my own worst enemy sometimes.”
“I could have been more gracious, Sierra.” He shrugged and rubbed his chin. “I don’t know what got into me, either. I just felt like I’d always be second place in your life, and I couldn’t stand that thought. I felt like your cats and their safety would always take first place.”
“You’ll always come first for me, Chad. In fact . . .” I wasn’t sure what I was doing. But, somehow I ended up down on one knee. Before I could stop myself, I plunged ahead. “Chad Davis, will you marry me?”
His eyes widened. “You’re proposing? To me?”
I shrugged. “I guess I am. I don’t have a ring or anything but the male species don’t generally wear an engagement ring.”
“And the female species don’t usually get down on one knee.”
Uh oh. Was there rejection in that statement? I started to rise when his arms caught me and pulled me up. “I just meant that I’d rather have you up here in my arms.”
“You would?” Why did I suddenly feel very insecure and young?
“Yes, Sierra Nakamura, I will marry you.”
“Really?” I hadn’t meant to sound so surprised. But I was surprised. This whole thing was surprising, even to me, and I’d started it.
He cupped my face with his hands. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes sparkled. “Let’s get married right now.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally serious. Sierra, I can’t see my future without you. I’ve been out of my mind this week thinking about not being with you.”
“Me too!”
“In fact, I was going to propose to you this week. I kept getting interrupted. Then we started fighting.”
I gasped. “That’s what you were wanting to talk about? I had no idea.”
“You got it.” He reached into his pocket. “I even have this.”
A ring glistened in the sunlight. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Golden. Simple. Symbolic.
Chad slipped it onto my finger and grinned. “It’s official now.”
“Oh, Chad. I love it.” I couldn’t stop staring at it. I was engaged. Really engaged!
What would my parents think about this? They wouldn’t like it. But, at the moment, I didn’t care. I knew Chad was right for my life.
Chad stroked my cheek. “So, I say we ditch the whole traditional idea. We go to the Justice of the Peace, get hitched, and live happily ever after. Someone just told me today there are some great deals to Mexico this time of year.”
I didn’t mention that was because it was hurricane season. Instead, I nodded. “I can wrap up my puppy mill story, turn the information over to animal control, go to Sage’s funeral, and be ready by tomorrow afternoon. But what about Trauma Care?”
“Gabby is coming back tomorrow. We can call and confirm, but I know that’s what she said. What do you think? Can you take some time off work?”
“Considering the founder will be locked up for a while? I think so.”
He intertwined his fingers with mine. “Let’s do it then.”
“You really think we’ve got what it takes to make this work?”
“I do. You?”
I didn’t have to think too hard before nodding. “I do.”
Chad grinned. “That was great practice. Now let’s go say our real ‘I dos.’”
Six hours later, we stood on the beach in front of Chad’s apartment. Pastor Randy stood in front of us. He’d agreed to officiate, but only if Chad and I both promised to give his church a try. We’d said yes. Maybe it was time for some changes in my life. I wasn’t sure what those changes would look like yet, but I did know that I needed to be more open. I needed to be quicker to listen and slower to speak. I needed to be more about people and relationships than projects.
Sharon, one of my friends who owned a coffeehouse, and Donnie stood in as witnesses. Each held one of my cats. Sharon had Freckles, who’d been found at a local pound. I’d rushed to pick her up before the wedding. Donnie, meanwhile, held Mr. Mouser, whom he’d fallen in love with. Once I’d realized Donnie was clean, I knew I’d be able to arrange a love connection between the grieving cat daddy and the grieving Mr. Mouser. I’d dropped the cats off at his place last night and today Mr. Mouser wanted nothing to do with me already. He was all about Donnie.
It also turned out that Pastor Randy kind of liked cats. He was going to cat sit for me while I was on my honeymoon. I might even be able to talk him into becoming a cat foster daddy. He’d be great at it.
I wore my one and only dress, a yellow billowy number, with spaghetti straps. Chad wore a white button up shirt, untucked, with khakis. A lovely breeze blew in from the ocean, and, for a moment, I forgot what really made the bay smell like it did. The sunset smeared colors across the sky all around us.
This was going to be the best day and worst day of my life, all wrapped into one. The best day because I was marrying the love of my life. The worst day because I’d almost died.
“Sierra, for your vows, I heard you’d like to speak from your heart?” Randy started.
I nodded and squeezed Chad’s hands. “Chad Davis, I promise to always love you more than my cats. I promise that you’ll be my first priority. I promise that, though I will never cook you meat, I will always do my best to take care of you. For better or for worse. When we’re getting along like cats and dogs or getting along like lovebirds.”
“Most beautiful words you’ve ever said to me, Sierra.”
The pastor grinned. “And you, Chad?”
Chad shifted, a serious look in his eyes. “And I, Chad Davis, promise that I will always allow you to be who you are, Sierra Nakamura. I will never ask you to change, but I will love you for you. When I mess up—because, since I’m human, I will mess up—I hope that you’ll forgive me. I hope that our relationship will be like a Hessel’s Hairstreak butterfly. That we’ll continue, as a couple, to grow into a more and more beautiful creation.”
My eyes filled with tears. “That really was beautiful, Chad.”
He rubbed my cheek with the back of his hand. “I mean it. Every word.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Chad’s lips met mine. I couldn’t believe how much I loved the idea of a happily ever after, but I truly had hope for one now.
And to think . . . the creature I had to thank for putting this all into motion was an allergenic hypoallergenic cat named Mr. Mouser.
Chapter One
“So, Sierra, what do you think your parents’ impression of me will be?” Chad asked.
I cringed as I weighed my response, trying to decide between brutal honesty and a vague resemblance of the truth. “I think they’re going to be shocked.”
He glanced
at me, two hands still on the steering wheel of his faded orange, beach-certified vintage Vanagon. For his birthday, I’d even graced him with Hawaiian-inspired seat covers. I felt like a modern-day hippie whenever I rode in it.
“They’ll be shocked?” Chad repeated, glancing over at me. “What’s that mean? That they’ll be shocked because I’m so good looking? Because they thought you’d be single forever? Because they won’t think I’m your type?”
I cringed again. “Well . . . that, too.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
The one thing I loved about Chad was that he never made me feel judged. He was laid back and chill, a nice balance to me. I often felt like I had my claws out, which worked out well for my job but horribly for relationships.
Every time I looked at him, I realized how good I had it. He was medium height, tanned from surfing, and nicely muscled from his job, and had sun-kissed light brown hair that was always a little too long. Most of the time, he had a goatee, but he’d shaved for this trip.
I sucked in a deep breath, deciding to go middle of the road in my response to his question. “I actually haven’t told my parents that I’m married yet.”
His mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
I nodded, guilt clawing at me. “Yes, I am. Unfortunately.”
Sweat instantly formed on his brow. “So, we’re going to show up at their front door and announce that I’m your husband?” He rubbed his chin. “This isn’t going to go well. Why haven’t you told them?”
“The truth?” I nibbled my lip, wishing I could magically transport myself from this conversation. For the past week, I’d felt nauseous at the thought of this trip. Only my parents could bring about this reaction in me.
“Of course.”
“I’m terrified,” I blurted.
“Terrified?” he repeated as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “You’re never scared.”
“Except of my parents.” He had no idea. I thought maybe it was better that way. He was happy go lucky, and I didn’t want to get him worked up. Meeting the parents the first time was scary for anyone, but my parents made Godzilla seem kind and warm.
Chad reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly. “I know you said they were kind of strict.”
“They have unreasonably high expectations not only of how I should act, but of what I should do with my life.”
“Right. So . . .” He twisted his lips. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s going to be fine.” I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t want him to know that. I hoped my tone didn’t properly convey my true feelings.
“If you thought it would be fine, you would have told them already.”
I couldn’t even argue with that. I stared out the window at rural Connecticut in the fall. I should have felt invigorated by the picturesque surroundings, but instead I felt like I was about to enter a war zone that had been artfully disguised as a Norman Rockwell painting. “I wanted you to be by my side when I made the announcement.”
“Because you’re terrified?” he confirmed.
I nodded crisply. “Exactly.”
He sighed. “This is going to be interesting. Where am I going, anyway?”
“Just a few more turns and we’ll be there.”
He glanced out the window as houses with spacious, well-manicured lawns began to dot the rolling landscape. “Nice neighborhood.”
When I’d lived here, our ten-thousand-square-foot house, once owned by a four-star general, had been the only one on the street. In recent years, others had bought plots of land and built there. All the houses were large, but some more so than others.
“Turn here.” I pointed to a street. It was my street, the place where I’d grown up. I was having trouble breathing as we started down the road. My heart beat erratically. Why did Chad have to insist on this trip? Why did he think it would be honorable to meet my folks? I would have been perfectly content to not see my parents again . . . for the rest of my life, basically.
But my sister Reina had called. It was my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary, and Reina insisted my brother and I be there to celebrate and honor my parents. Other distant relatives were also coming in, and a whole weekend of family time had been planned, including my parents renewing their vows.
I was only coming because I loved my sister. Reina was older by twelve years and had practically been a second mother to me. She was quiet and didn’t love managing people, so she’d decided against being a doctor. I suppose animals had seemed like an easier option, and vet school was close enough to med school that my parents were pleased. My mom was a pediatrician and my dad an oncologist.
Reina and I shared the love of animals, but otherwise we were opposites. Reina was reserved, compliant, and sweet. I was . . . none of those things.
Then there was my brother. He was single, ten years older than me, and a plastic surgeon living in New York City. I hadn’t seen him in years, but he’d always had a way of making people feel like a million bucks, including me. However, during my formative years, he’d been sent off to boarding school, so in reality I felt closer to many of my friends than I did my own brother.
And that was my childhood in a nutshell.
Chad pressed on the brakes as the road ended at a glistening, paved driveway that looked fit for royalty. He stared up at the house at the end of the red-brick lane. “This is where you grew up? I thought you said it was small.”
I looked at the massive structure and frowned. “It is small compared to a couple of the other houses on the street.”
“I feel like I should have worn something other than my nicest surfing T-shirt.” He tugged at the baby-blue jersey material. It was practically his uniform. Most of the time, neither of us had any need to dress up. We were casual and content to be that way.
I shook my head, shoving down any doubts about how presentable we were. “My family is going to have to accept you just as you are, and that’s all there is to it.”
I was independent and capable of making my own choices. My family was just going to have to adjust. They were going to have to get used to Chad, for that matter.
Chad leaned closer and planted a quick kiss on my lips. “The fact that you love me just the way I am is just one more thing to love about you.”
“I’m not in the business of changing people.” I questioned the truth in my words. I actually tried to change people’s minds all the time. I lived and breathed changing people’s minds, for that matter.
“What was that?” Chad questioned.
“Okay, not changing people, per se. I just want to change the horrible practices concerning animals.” That sounded a little better and didn’t make me feel like such a dogmatic loon.
Chad nodded. “I get it, and I love you for it.”
Chad put the van in park. The Vanagon looked out of place among a shiny BMW, a brand-new Volvo, and a luxury-class Lexus. Each of those vehicles was shiny, clean, and free of bumper stickers, colorful seat covers, and Hawaiian bobble-head dolls that danced with little persuasion.
We climbed out, and the midday sun hit our shoulders. It was brisk outside, but the cooler weather felt invigorating. I gulped some deep breaths of air. I can do this!
I took Chad’s hand as we walked to the front door. It had been a long time since I’d been back here, and that was on purpose. I didn’t have tons of great memories of my childhood. In fact, I’d run far from my family as soon as I’d been able to. There’d just been too much pressure, too much expectation, and too much absence to ever build bridges. I’d rejected nearly every part of my upbringing.
That’s why I had no idea why I was standing here now, wearing my nicest jeans, a soft gray sweater, and my favorite pair of Converse All Stars. I tucked a black hair behind my ear and braced myself.
As the moment of reckoning came upon me, not even the lovely autumn weather could bring me any hope.
Before I even rang the bell, the intric
ate mahogany door opened and my longtime housekeeper from childhood stood there with a bright green feather duster in hand. “If it isn’t my girl Sierra!”
The plump sixty-something woman pulled me into her arms and held me so tightly I felt like an anaconda had wrapped itself around my chest and squeezed. “Good to see you, Ms. Blankenship.”
I coughed until finally my childhood equivalent of Mary Poppins let go. I resisted the urge to suck in deep, dramatic breaths, even though I kind of wanted to—make that needed to. All the air had been hugged out of my lungs.
She looked beyond me, her kind, grandmother-like eyes absorbing Chad. “And you must be her boyfriend.”
Chad opened his mouth as if to correct her and then cast me a glance that spoke volumes. He did not like this, he didn’t approve, and he probably didn’t appreciate it. But he still stuck with me.
“Nice to meet you,” he murmured instead, flashing a self-assured smile.
“Come on inside.” She waved her feather duster and stepped back. “Everyone is waiting for you.”
She ushered us in. As soon as I stepped foot into the tiled foyer of my parents’ house, I felt like a child in elementary school who’d just done something wrong. I waited to be scolded, even though I had no idea why I might deserve it.
That’s just the way it worked in my family. Whatever I did, I got in trouble for it. Looks of disapproval were commonly cast my way. I could handle scrutiny from almost anyone else, but receiving it from my family always put me over the edge.
I spotted several people milling around, mostly in the living room and kitchen, both of which I could see from the front door thanks to the open, airy design of the house. Everything in the house was clean and white or beige. Tall marble columns, shiny alabaster tile floors, whitewashed-framed pictures, ivory rugs, and creamy tables.
I’d always thought my mom decorated in this color scheme to make it easier to spot even a speck of dirt and freak out about it. She thought the house should be as clean as the operating room.
My mom and dad, who were sipping wine by the couch, spotted us first. My mom was a petite first-generation Japanese woman who loved business suits and practical high heels. Her hair was black and bobbed at her jawline, just as she’d always worn it. She also had reading glasses that she always wore on a chain around her neck. Since I’d seen her last, gray strands had streaked evenly through the black.