I followed her down the stairs, which she leapt the last three in her exuberance, and she spun around the banister and raced down the short hall, past our only bathroom, to the kitchen and living room at the end. I couldn’t really see in the room, so I followed her at a slower pace. I didn’t know what to expect, except that my mother’s idea of a “surprise” didn’t really fit with mine. Amy’s excitement was infectious though, and what could be better than cake?
I smiled slightly for the first time in months as I rounded the corner into the kitchen.
At our little round table pushed against the corner, my mother sat holding a steaming mug. The aroma of peppermint tea filled the room. Amy was sitting next to her, scooting her little butt in excitement on her chair.
And there was a third person...
“Taylor,” I breathed.
“Hi Ethan,” she greeted me with a smile that made my stomach flip.
My vision swam, and I pressed a hand to my temple. “Am I... am I seeing things? Do I need glasses?”
“No, silly, you aren’t seeing things, it’s really Taylor,” my mother chided, smiling and sipping her tea.
I could hardly hear my mother. “What... what are you doing here?”
“I contacted her parents in Germany and asked if she’d like a nanny job for Amy,” my mother explained.
“Yeah! She’s gonna take me to school and practice so you don’t have to anymore,” Amy supplied, gulping the whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate in front of her. “That way you can come home and take a nap like you always try to do.”
“I still don’t understand,” I couldn’t take my eyes off Taylor. Her hair was shorter, cut to her shoulders, and a little wavy. She was wearing huge glasses on her face, which made her look even more attractive to me. I hadn’t seen her in three months, but she somehow looked older, more mature. “You... you can’t be here. I just talked to you yesterday.”
“I got on a plane yesterday,” she said with a smile.
“Well...” I ran a hand through my hair. I wasn’t sure what to say. “What about school?”
“Taylor’s doing an online academy for her last year.” My mother was still smiling, which was weird. “She’s quite brilliant and skipped a year, actually, so she’s a senior like you. She wants to enroll in college soon, doesn’t she?”
“She does?” I looked between them, recalling our conversation by the lake what seemed forever ago.
“I do. I’ve got a tour planned next week at the university to look at their theater department.”
“I’ll be covering her tuition in exchange for her taking care of Amy,” my mother added.
My head was still trying to recover all this new information. Taylor? Here? Going to the same college as me, and taking care of my sister?
Was this a dream come true?
“I ... can’t believe this,” I finally blurted. “This can’t be happening.”
Taylor stood then and snatched my hand up like she had that night in the airport, the last time I saw her. I followed her to the sliding door off the kitchen, and my mother waved us away.
“Yes, go, catch up,” she chided, and Amy giggled.
“You’re really here,” I whispered to Taylor. “I can’t believe it.”
“Me, either,” she whispered back.
Her voice was the sound of heaven.
Taylor
Ethan’s eyes shone in the back-porch light as he stared at me in that way he always did, where his little plump, rosy cheeks reddened just a shade, his lips slightly parted, and his pupils searched mine frantically. I imagined, or at least hoped, that I stared at him in just the same way. What did he see when he looked at me this time? Just the little Christian girl he fell for months ago, or was he finally seeing me, Taylor, for the first time?
“You’re staring,” Ethan breathed, as if he read my brain waves, which he usually seemed to.
“I know.” I bit my lip.
“Why?”
I searched his eyes, stalling. Inside the butterflies skittered around my stomach, jumping, flipping, soaring. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
About how much I love you, I wanted to say, but after the summer, after he’d thrown me away, could I really say it? Did I have any right? I snatched his hand up, and finally, he didn’t pull away. “You know what this means, Ethan?”
“No, but god, if you’re telling me, I want to hear it.”
I inhaled, remembering my lines perfectly, the lines he’d included in his play at the beginning of the summer. It had been a long three months without Ethan, and all I wanted to do was collapse into his arms. But did he feel it too?
I had to take a chance. I couldn’t live my life how others wanted me to. Not when all I wanted was Ethan.
“’This is real love, I love you for yourself, and if you lost your looks I'd love you still.’”
“Roxanne,” Ethan breathed. “You are my Roxanne.”
“And you are my Cyrano,” I whispered.
Even with Amy and Ethan’s mom eagerly watching us from the front window, Ethan gathered me into his arms and planted his lips on mine. It was absolutely everything I needed. Ethan was everything I could have ever wanted. In that moment I knew I was right where I was supposed to be: here, with him.
It was the sweetest kiss of my dreams.
Roxanne ain’t got nothing on Taylor Berm.
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Also by Rebekah Dodson
California Express
Stranded At Night: California Express Book 1
Murder By Day (California Express Book 2)
Malady At Twilight
Life After Us
Poppy Bloom
Life After Us
Daisy Song
Lavender Dreams
Life After Us - The Series
Postcards from Paris
Room 331: A Postcards from Paris Prequel
Postcards from Paris
Postcards from America
Postcards from Moscow
Realm of Elestra
Timekeeper
Clock City
The Curse of Lanval
Mirrors
The Curse of Lanval Series
Marie
Magic
Merlin
Standalone
My Favorite Shade
Taming of the Shoe
Watch for more at Rebekah Dodson’s site.
About the Author
Rebekah Dodson is a prolific word weaver of romance, fantasy, and science fiction novels. Her works include the series Postcards from Paris, The Surrogate, The Curse of Lanval series, several standalone novels, and her upcoming YA novel, Clock City. She has been writing her whole life, with her first published work of historical fiction with 4H Clubs of America at the age of 12, and poetry at the age of 16 with the National Poetry Society. With an extensive academic background including education, history, psychology and English, she currently works as a college professor by day and a writer by night. She resides in Southern Oregon with her husband, two teenagers, and three dogs.
Read more at Rebekah Dodson’s site.
Taming of the Shoe Page 23