When I got back to campus I had term papers to grade and lectures to plan. Plus, my office hours are on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and of course I had a line of students anxious to talk to me today, of all days. Things were so busy that I barely thought about the election at all.
But now it’s on my mind. I rush inside, past all the boxes we haven’t unpacked. Most of them are mine, and four of them are Monty’s. I ignore them all and head straight for the shower. After I’m done, I dry my hair, apply my makeup, and find my dress, still in its bag, hanging in my closet.
It’s blue, with a wrap-around front, and it’s from J Crew. Probably a million other women will be wearing the same dress tonight, since a week ago Michelle Obama was on Jay Leno wearing another outfit by J. Crew. But I had to order this in advance, since it’s the maternity version, and attractive maternity dresses are hard to find.
It’s what you might call serendipity.
I’m dressed and reapplying my makeup when Monty walks in.
“I’m ready!” I say, before he even has a chance to take off his shoes.
He sees me, all done up, and smiles. “Give me fifteen minutes. Then I’ll be ready too.”
I watch CNN while I wait.
We get to the party, and I try not to walk around with an open jaw. It’s in an adobe style mansion, white stucco walls and arched doorways everywhere. But it’s huge, with long corridors leading to large, warmly lit rooms, each with tables of sushi, mini-quiches, assorted torts, and towers of champagne. There’s also a live band, a fortuneteller, a henna tattoo artist, and an instant photo booth. These are all eclipsed, however, by a room that’s set up like a movie theater, with cushiony seats that face the biggest flat-screen television I’ve ever seen, a full-service bar, and a popcorn machine.
This is where the majority of the partygoers converge, because the election results are coming in.
All of the seats are taken, so we stand near the back. I’m watching John King work on his magic board when a co-worker of Monty’s comes up.
“Hey, you made it!” He says.
“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Monty replies. They shake hands. Monty turns to me. “Lucy, this is Devin. He works in polio.” I’ve heard enough about Monty’s work to know what that means. Devin must do similar stuff to what Monty does, only for polio rather than malaria.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Nice to meet you,” says Devin, “and congratulations. When are you due?”
“Middle of February.”
Monty puts a proprietary arm around my shoulder. “I wanted to get her tickets to the inauguration, but the timing is just off. She’ll be too big to fly.”
This is the first I’ve heard of this. “Really? You would have been able to do that? Aren’t those tickets impossible to get?”
Devin, who is very tall, playfully hits Monty in the back of his head. “Not for this guy! Everybody loves him. All he’d need to do is put a bug in Charley’s ear, and those tickets would be his.”
I haven’t met Charley yet, but he is the host of this party. He’s extremely high up in the foundation, and according to Monty, has all sorts of power and connections.
“Oh well,” I say. “Maybe four years from now we’ll be able to go.”
Monty does a double take. “Such optimism? From you? I thought you were still unsure that Obama was going to win tonight. Now he’s automatically getting another term?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing’s automatic. But I’ve decided it’s time to start looking at the bright side of things.”
Devin smiles and nods his head. “No time like the present, right?”
“Exactly.”
We chat for a couple more minutes, and then Devin makes a graceful exit to go mingle with someone else. I take Monty’s hand and lead him outside, to the expansive backyard with a glistening swimming pool and several dozen post lights along the walkways. The evening is cool, and super-tall pine trees hide the night sky. If we were to walk to the end of their yard we’d be on the edge of a cliff that overlooks the ocean, but I’m happy in the spot we’re in.
Monty looks at his watch. “They should be calling it any time now. Don’t you want to be by the television?”
“In a minute.” I inhale to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I need to say this now, before other events take over the evening. “Monty, I meant what I said about being positive.”
“Okay.” He stands there facing me, sort of like we’re about to slow dance.
“And we really do have everything. I know that doesn’t mean that life will always be perfect, that we won’t still have obstacles to overcome. But we should enjoy the victories, don’t you think?”
“Of course.” He holds my hand, and I feel as fluttery as I did the first time he ever touched me.
“So, I think we should get married.”
He lets go. “Wait. Are you proposing?”
Suddenly the butterflies morph into something heavy, and my stomach drops. “Well, no, I was just saying how I feel…”
He puts both hands on my shoulders. “I’m the guy, Lucy. I’m supposed to propose.”
Is that all? “I didn’t know you were such a traditionalist.”
He blows some air out between his teeth. “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you for weeks. I even bought a ring. But I’ve been waiting until I thought you were ready, ready to say yes. Now you’re asking me?”
“But if we want the same thing, isn’t that good?”
His mouth sets into an annoyed little line. “You don’t get it.”
“Then I take it back.” I toss my hands up in frustration, and I speak loud enough that other people can probably hear, but I don’t care. “Forget I said anything, and just go ahead and propose.”
“I can’t just forget. That’s not how it works.”
“Why not?”
Monty sighs, shakes his head and mutters, “Fine. But if this proposal doesn’t live up to your standards, you have only yourself to blame. I feel really unprepared.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.”
He glances around self-consciously, gets down on one knee, and again takes my hand in his. He clears his throat. “Lucy.” His voice is soft, husky, and he focuses on my hand rather than my face. “I love you. And you just…make me so happy. So no matter what life throws our way, I want to face it together, the good and bad.” Now he meets my eyes. “Will you marry me?”
All I have to do is look at his face, so sweet and genuine, and the emotional floodgates open. I sniff back tears, nod my head vigorously, and manage to squeak out a “Yes.” Monty stands, takes me in his arms, and kisses me. The kiss, passionate at first, eventually turns to a hug, and I revel in the closeness that from here on out, will always be familiar.
“That was a great proposal,” I say, still clutching him. I can smell his spicy aftershave, and the fabric softener in his shirt.
“It would have been better if I’d had the ring. I didn’t bring it because there was no way I was going to propose tonight. It would’ve ruined a great evening if you had said no.”
“I never would have said no.”
Suddenly there’s a collective cry from inside. “I think our guy just won,” I say. For the second time in five minutes, tears of joy spring from my eyes.
Monty leans in to kiss me one more time before we head back to the party. It’s affectionate, unyielding, and feels like a guarantee, even though I know there’s no such thing.
He wipes my tears away with his thumb, and I clasp his hand with mine. He cocks his head towards the door. “Let’s go enjoy the victory.”
Together we walk inside, into the rest of our lives.
* * * * *
To read more about Lucy and her views on the 2012 election, visit http://www.novembersurprises.blogspot.com
To read more stories about Lucy, Jack, and Monty, read Campaign Promises, also on Amazon.
For more about Laurel Osterkamp's writing, visit ht
tp://laurelosterkamp.blogspot.com
Please continue reading for a special bonus excerpt from Laurel Osterkamp's newest novel, Starring in the Movie of My Life—now bargain priced on Amazon.
Praise for Starring in the Movie of My Life
· Award Winning Finalist 2011 International Book Awards (Women's Fiction and Young Adult Literature)
· Award Winning Finalist 2011 Indie Excellence Awards (Chick Lit)
Book Reviewers:
"A riveting romance and drama. Highly recommended." —Midwest Book Review
“Two stories collide in this novel that deals with acceptance, love and revenge. This story will stick with you long after it's come to an end.” (4-Star RT Rating) — RT Book Reviews
“Starring in the Movie of My Life is fast-paced, engaging, and a recommended read.” —All Books International
Book Blogs:
“This is a great love story, very deep and complicated and messy, but very real.” —ChicklitPlus.com
“I'm not one for giving out 5 stars all willy-nilly. I am deadly serious about my 5 star rating and have only given out two so far this year. Pretend you can see my serious face. Okay? Well, I am giving my third 5 star rating for this incredible and surprising novel by a new favorite author, Laurel Osterkamp.” —StephTheBookworm.blogspot.com
“Starring in the Movie of My Life is about second chances at any age. It's also about discovering how to fulfill your needs without expecting an outside source, especially a relationship, to magically fix everything. I really enjoyed reading this novel.” —Bitchlitblog.wordpress.com
“Laurel Osterkamp is an author to watch.” —GirlyScribbles.wordpress.com
“The story is emotional and intense… I can certainly see why Starring in the Movie of My Life is a 2011 International Book Award (Women’s Fiction and Young Adult Literature) and 2011 Indie Excellence Award Finalist. I can’t wait to see what’s next from Laurel Osterkamp!” —ReelSwellBlog.com
“Starring in the Movie of My Life was immensely involving. I truly enjoyed Laurel’s writing and I am looking forward to her next book.” —PiaBernardino.com
“This book definitely took me by surprise and really held my attention the whole way through. If you are looking for a great read then this is it!” —ChickLitCentralTheBlog.blogspot.com
“Get your copy today & weigh in on a rising star, before she jets off into the Milky Way.” —ElsieLovesFiction.blogspot.com
“This book has it all: problems with mothers, problems with the opposite sex, marital problems, crushes, surrogate pregnancy, to name some. But this doesn't mean this book is all over the place. It's tight and concise and you find yourself cheering for both women. I don't like to cry, but this book made me sob like a baby. And I didn't mind…Do yourself a favor and pick up Starring in the Movie of My Life. It's a fast read because you want to keep going to find out what happens. Actually, because you need to find out what's happening!” —Motherhoot.com
“This book was one of my first summer reads and I was not disappointed. It had a great story line with great characters. I actually left the book thinking about my life and where I am at.” —ATaleOfManyReviews.Blogspot.com
“This is one of those rare reads I come across where I'm so enthralled from the first page that I can't stop reading and nothing else gets done until the book is finished.” —TheBookFetishBlog.com
Amazon Reader Reviews:
“This novel is quite winning and entertaining!” —J Faulk
“I loved this book and couldn’t put it down!” —Ashlea Bushman
“The plot moves quickly, and there's a love story...but don't let the genre fool you: this is great story, written by a great author! I can't wait to see the movie…” —Christina
“I totally enjoyed this book!” —C Williams
“The complexity of each character is refreshing. This book is a thoroughly enjoyable read…I highly recommend it!” —edwardse
Preview of Starring in the Movie of My Life
Starring in the Movie of My Life
Part 1
1. Melody
Winter 2006
The girl's restroom is cold, dark and empty. I feel like I'm trespassing. Even the faint scent of cigarette smoke mixed with fruity body spray feels forbidden, and it's how this bathroom always smells. I'm here because I hate to pee in the company of others, and when you're in high school public peeing is an everyday reality. Not tonight. Tonight I refuse to suffer in any way, shape or form. So I told Axel I'd be back shortly, and I snuck up to the English hallway, away from the noise and hustle of the school dance. Here I can pee and primp in peace.
I flush the toilet, straighten my dress, exit the stall, and admire myself in the grimy mirror above the sink. All my effort and suffering has paid off. The hours spent working at Subway to buy this dress, the strategic flirting with the most popular boy in school, the lying to my mom about what I was doing tonight—it's all been worth it. Finally I will no longer just be academically successful. Tonight is the beginning of my social success as well. But even more importantly, if all goes well, I'll have a boyfriend I can count on, and maybe even love.
I take one more appreciative glance at my expensive black strapless gown that, combined with my ultra high heels, makes me look like a slightly shorter Audrey Hepburn. I check that my dark hair is secure in what's supposed to look like a loose upsweep that took no time, and head out to find Axel. I'm startled to discover him standing right outside the bathroom, by the water fountain.
"Hey," I say with a smile. "How did you know I was up here? Did you follow me?"
"I figured you wanted me to follow you." He steps closer to me, and I can smell the liquor on his breath. When did he have a chance to drink? Was it just now, or had he been drinking before he picked me up? I don't have much time to contemplate because in a moment he is kissing me. Softly at first, but then his tongue is in my mouth, his slobber is on my lips. I turn my head to the side.
"Let's go down to the gym," I manage to squeak out.
He presses into me. "Why? Aren't we having fun right here?"
I play along with a little laugh but gently push him away, creating some space between us. "Well sure, but there's plenty of time for this later. I want to dance." And I want the rest of the school to see me dancing with you, I silently add to myself.
"High school dances are over-rated," he says. "I want to be alone with you."
He grabs me and kisses me again. At first I kiss him back, wondering if this is what passion is supposed to feel like. But his tongue goes so deep down my throat that I begin to gag, and the smell of his breath does not help. I wiggle out of his arms.
"Axel, slow down."
He smiles like he knows some wicked secret. "Don't tell me you're not up for this. You pretend to be all prissy and shit, but I read your notes."
It's true, I did write him sexy notes, ones filled with ideas I got from studying endless copies of Cosmo—articles like "How to Drive Him Crazy in Bed," or "His Pleasure Zones (and there are more of them than you think!)." The last note I wrote said, "I need some of your frontal friction to heat up my hot spot." They all said something like that. Anyway, I would slip these notes into his locker during passing time after second hour. Then I would see him fifth hour, where we sit next to each other in History. He would whisper all sorts of things to me, and I would bat my eyes and giggle, although sometimes I couldn't hear or completely get what he was saying. Honestly, I wasn't even always one hundred percent sure of what my notes meant as I was writing them. I am a virgin after all. But I was just playing, flirting really. That's what flirting is.
Then he started asking me out. Other girls would have been thrilled with his requests, but I knew better. When he'd suggest that we meet up after a game, or go for a drive together after school, I would just grin and shake my head, and tell him I was busy. I do have standards, by the way, and my refusal to simply answer a booty-call was finally rewarded when, after several weeks, he asked me to the Valenti
ne's Day dance. Such an invitation proves he not only likes me, but respects me as well. Me, Melody Madsen is going out with Axel Radcliffe, star basketball player and everyone's favorite guy. My stock has gone way up.
Except now things have gotten a little out of control. So I take a deep breath to compose myself, and turn away. I figure if I don't answer but make it clear I'm walking down to the dance, he'll have to follow. Then things will get back on track.
I hear him behind me as he catches up. Suddenly his hand is on my arm and he yanks it, hard, forcing me to turn towards him.
"Ouch! Don't do that!"
His face contorts with aggression and flushes to a deeper shade of red. "Then stop being such a goddamn tease! You know I only asked you here because of those notes."
He captures my body and squashes his mouth into mine; this time he isn't even a little bit gentle. "Come on," he mutters after he comes up for air, "haven't you always wanted to do it here at school? I sure have."
"No," I say.
He doesn't listen. Instead his mouth covers mine again, and his hands cover my breasts. First they are above the fabric of my dress, but soon they are beneath it. Then he pulls my dress completely down, leaving me exposed due to the unfortunate ease of removing a strapless gown.
He stops kissing me and buries his face in my chest. I feel bile rising from my stomach and tears squirting from my eyes. There are two things I pride myself on never doing—crying and puking—and I'm about to do both at once. But then I feel this push from inside me, and I realize it's my own strength.
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