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Be Mine, Valentine

Page 7

by Jennifer Johnson


  Unfortunate for her, this spot also afforded her the heartbreaking view of how wonderful Josh looked in his tux, even from behind. She knew without a doubt the front view would be too much for her heart to handle. She couldn’t imagine having to stand across from him during the heartfelt vows and sent up a silent prayer.

  Twenty minutes and several tears later, the wedding was a beautiful success. Brian and Julie said “I Do” and the whole churched cheered as the preacher announced the happy couple. Annie wanted to hang around for their walk out of the church together but that also meant the whole wedding party would be following and she wanted to avoid Josh, so now was the time to sneak out gracefully. Maybe while everyone was standing, they wouldn’t notice her leaving….

  The bench creaked when she stood, it was an old bench, but no one even looked. All eyes were on the bride and groom as they started their progression.

  Once outside, Annie took a few deep breaths. Free and clear, for now.

  Josh sat in the backseat of the limo across from the bride and groom, or rather their legs, since they were both hanging out the sun roof. He was scared to death Annie may not be at the reception at all by the time they got there. He was almost positive when they’d all turned after the deed was done, that he saw her slip out the back of the church, but with so many people between them, he never would have made it outside to catch her.

  And curse the person who ever started the tradition of driving around town with the whole wedding party before the reception. If he ever got married, and his chances were looking more slim every minute, there would be no in between time, just straight from wedding to reception. For now, all he could do was sit impatiently and pray they wouldn’t take yet another turn in the opposite direction of the party.

  Less than half an hour later, instead of being relieved, Josh was wound tighter than a drum as the limo approached the entrance to the park where the festivities were being held. Similar to the church, the parking lot was too full to take a proper look around for Annie’s car so he continued to hold out hope he hadn’t screwed up his chances.

  As was his typical behavior of late, he posted the proverbial smile on his face, for the cameras, and preceded the bride and groom out of the car.

  The park pavilion was absolutely beautiful and the cake looked like a Valentine’s Day masterpiece, not that Annie was bragging. It gave her such pleasure to see one of her creations turn out so well. The bride had seen the intricate filigree heart designs in a fashion magazine and knew she wanted them added to the heart-shaped cakes. It was a good choice and they really looked great.

  As far as she could tell, everything else was in order. Now she would wait for the guests of honor to make their appearance, give them her quiet congratulations and make a subtle exit—all without seeing Josh, she hoped.

  She stood, kind of like a wallflower, along the gazebo railing when she heard the honking coming closer and closer. Each press of the car horn added yet another nervous butterfly to her stomach until she thought she would be terminally ill. The last 24 hours had been pure hell on her nerves.

  With the limo parked, she shook her sweating palms and watched his fluid movements as Josh emerged from the car first. As the bride and groom climbed from the limo and approached, Annie made her way closer to the front of the gazebo. A quick hug for both and she could be on her way.

  “I can’t believe I’m actually married,” Julie whispered in her ear, as Annie gave her a hug. Brian joined the embrace just in time. “I’m so happy for both of you. It was a beautiful ceremony, Happy Valentine’s Day.” With lovesick smiles, the happy couple wandered toward their waiting guests. When Annie turned to leave, she caught sight of Josh, standing alone, looking heavenly and believe it or not, peaceful…and staring right at her.

  She wasn’t sure she could endure another meeting like yesterday but she had nothing else to lose, he’d already walked away from her twice. So after a couple deep breaths, she pushed herself to approach him.

  “Hi Annie. You look beautiful.”

  It wasn’t one of her dressier dresses—sleeveless, black and form fitting but it was nice to know he liked it. “Thank you Josh, you’re very handsome in that tux.” She hated tense moments like this where people say the pleasantries and then stand looking at each other.

  Annie motioned in the direction of the parked cars. “I was just heading out, but I wanted to apologize one last time.” She still felt horrible for her selfishness and his forgiveness was very important to her. “More than you’ll ever know, I’m so sorry for the awful way I treated you and I hope that some day you will be able to forgive me. I only wish for your future to be happy and I know that I’ll be okay if that isn’t with me but I do love you, Josh.” Enough said. She was blubbering. She turned to make her exit when a hand gripped her arm.

  “Annie, do you have to go?”

  She sensed he was putting himself out there, as well. Just like she had. Had the anger between them diminished enough over the past few months so they could possibly talk about it?

  “Maybe you could dance with me?” he added.

  She hesitated for only a minute. She could think of nothing better. She nodded and he held out a hand. As Josh folded her into his embrace, she couldn’t remember anything in a long time that felt this good.

  “I’m not saying all is fixed, Annie,” he whispered into her ear, his moist breath falling light on her cheek, “but maybe we could make a new start, take it slow and talk things out?”

  Relief washed over her. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, especially after the disaster in her shop yesterday. She pushed away slightly to take in the sincerity on his face.

  “Josh, I love being in your arms.”

  “This is where I always wanted you to be, Annie. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  The Legend of the True Love Angel

  Bobbye Terry

  I don’t remember when I was first heard about The Legend of the True Love Angel, for it seems I knew about it always, even in the womb. That’s how it is with families of Irish descent. The traditions carry on for generations and the story-telling stays active and exaggerated throughout each person’s life. Whatever the case, I loved the legend, sure I had from the first moment I learned abut it. It was a tale little girls dreamed of, just like being Cinderella, and it was guaranteed to happen at some point in a woman’s life, as long as she continued to believe.

  When I was young, I was sure it would happen by the time I turned eighteen, followed by a few blissful years of courtship and a happily-ever-after marriage at twenty-one. But, it didn’t. Okay, so maybe he’d come at twenty-one and we’d marry after I received my master’s degree. Still no angel. My belief began to wane, for it appeared I’d been overlooked. I’d decided my true love angel had been ambushed by some undeserving non-Irish woman before the angel could bestow my true soul mate to me. When I told my best friend about my misfortunate, she just about laughed me out of the break room.

  “Abbie O’Shaughnessy, you can’t be serious about this true love angel stuff! You have a master’s degree, are going for your PhD and teach Sociology. How can a legend still be so real in your mind?”

  I glanced at Robin Frank, and smiled. “Spoken like a true professor of Psychology.” I shrugged. “I just know it has to happen. It happened to my mother and to both my sisters. They called it ‘the knowing.’ One night they saw her appear, a beautiful angel just as real as you or me, draped in beautiful blue-white light, smiling and nodding at them. The next day, in each case, the one appeared. One after the other of my family members told me they knew immediately he was the one, because he glowed in the same blue-white light as the angel for a brief instant when they first saw their respective soul mates.”

  “No offense to your family, but I think they’ve been drinking too much Irish whiskey.”

  I chuckled. “Go ahead. Make fun. You know my mom doesn’t drink, and my sisters only have a glass or two of wine with dinner, and even that isn’t every night.
If it happened to you, you wouldn’t doubt it.”

  She smirked. “If it happened to me, I’d be seeking serious counseling.”

  “What’s up, you two?”

  My head sprang up at the sound of Dane Trevor’s baritone voice, sliding over my every nerve ending like thick honey.

  Robin’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Tell it to Dane. He’s even a psychiatrist.”

  He cocked his head and looked at me. “Having some kind of trouble?”

  “Not anything to worry you with. Just conjecturing about the benefits of family traditions.” I stared up into Dane’s navy blue eyes, sparkling with amusement as he looked down at me. “Do you have any traditions you keep this time of year?”

  He raked his hand through his heavy thatch of chestnut brown hair. “The only tradition I have in February is to pray it would hurry up and be spring. I hate snow. It’s a good thing we live in Texas. Not too many days of bad weather.”

  My eyes trailed down over his muscular, trim body. The guy could make a nun drool. He was God’s gift to womankind. Unfortunately, I’d never seen him bathed in blue-white light.

  “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” Robin asked. “Have a hot date?”

  A nervous tingle trickled down my spinal column. Robin could irritate the shit out of me sometimes. Of course the guy had a date. He probably had them lined up around the block.

  “Not exactly.” His smile disappeared as he glanced at Robin and then back at me. “My fiancée is coming into town.”

  My gut constricted and, for a second, I thought I’d have to make a dash for the ladies’ room. “She’s not from around here?” I asked, refusing to meet his gaze.

  “No. I’ve known her all my life.”

  ****

  I sat, dressed in my ratty pink robe in front of the TV set, gorging myself on popcorn and washing it down with a light beer. Robin was talking incessantly on the phone, so I did what any intelligent person would do and put her on hands off speaker so I could properly pig out.

  “Can you believe Dane has a fiancée? We’ve known him for three years and never even caught a glimpse of her.” Robin was almost screaming into her receiver.

  “It’s his life, Robin.” I glugged a few more sips from the bottle. “Why are you so upset?”

  “I’m upset for you. You sound so calm, Abbie. Aren’t you the least bit perturbed?”

  “Of course not. We don’t have a romantic relationship.” I stuffed a huge hand of sticky buttered kernels in my mouth.

  “What’s all that crunching noise?”

  Chewing madly, I swallowed, one annoying piece sticking in my throat. I coughed like a wild woman and groped for the beer bottle, then chugged another gulp. “Cat got hold of something again and coughed up a hairball,” I lied.

  “Sure sounded like you.”

  I sighed. “You know what they say about owners and their pets. The longer they’re together…”

  “Yeah, right. My bets are on you trying to drown your sorrows in calories. But I’ll let it pass.”

  I threw my bunny slipper clad feet up on an ottoman. “Robin, Dane has never said one thing romantic to me, never kissed me. Nada. No wonder I didn’t know he was engaged.”

  “Well, if you ask me, it was awful sneaky of him to hide her away in another town.”

  The door bell chimed from behind me. “Look, don’t know who’d stop by at nine at night, but someone’s here. Talk to you later.” I cut her off before she could start another train of thought. That’s Robin. She never just says good-bye but simply changes the subject and drones on.

  Flopping across the living room, the ears on the slippers bouncing up from my feet, I peered through the view hole in the door and stepped back in alarm. What was Dane doing here? I stared down at my disheveled appearance. Great. I looked like something out of an old Honeymooners rerun. I slowly opened the door and peeked around it. “Dane, why are you here?”

  He pushed the door open. “Abbie, you know I live in the complex. I just had to come by because I had the same hallucination again. I think I’m losing my mind.” He grabbed my hands. “That’s not a good thing for a psychiatrist.” He looked back down at my hands and withdrew his, rubbing his fingers together. “What do you have on your hands anyway?”

  I frowned as I rubbed my hand on my robe. “Sorry, butter. Come on into the kitchen and wash your hands. Then you can tell me what this hallucination is.”

  Minutes later, he sat in a chair next to my sofa, holding a glass of wine. The furrows on his forehead told me how worried he was. “It’s happened to me two days in a row now. At first I thought the fact Connie was coming into town was making me do this.”

  “What exactly is happening?” I slipped my bunny-clad feet under me. I didn’t want him to fixate on my adolescent slippers.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “I was sitting in my living room watching CSI, and…”

  “You watch that, too?” A sparkle of kinship burned along my arms. “Love the show. Wouldn’t miss it most of the time. Robin called me and I hadn’t turned it on.”

  He grinned. “We’ll have to watch it together sometime but that’s not what I’m talking about right now. I wanted to tell you what happened while I was watching TV.”

  I nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “This is harder than I thought.” He cleared his throat. “I thought I saw an angel.”

  I sat paralyzed in my chair, staring at him.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” He laughed nervously. “Okay, I must be right. I’m losing my mind. I’m going schizophrenic.”

  “No, no,” I squeaked. “Let’s not be too hasty. Maybe the angel was some kind of sign. The angel, what did she look like? Did she do anything?”

  Sipping some wine, he then placed his glass on the end table and leaned forward. “She just sat there smiling. The angel had bright white wings and she glowed.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “Glowed? As in what color?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Blinding white light, no make that blue-white like the glint off a crystal glass.”

  Or a diamond ring. I pushed the thought out of my mind. “Maybe you’re just excited about getting married.”

  He shook his head. “Not really. Connie is a sweet woman, but the whole thing about us marrying. I don’t know. It was something I promised her father when he died. I told him I’d take care of her. She’s ten years younger than I am, and was just a baby when he died. But she knew about the promise and always assumed that meant marriage. At first I was just doing my duty, help with her school expenses, put her through college, the whole thing. Then I thought I wasn’t getting any younger and she was a delightful woman. But, over the years there haven’t been any sparks. Truth is I’m more like her father.”

  “Have you told her?” My heart pounded in my chest.

  Dane shook his head. “No, I never knew how. But I know one thing. The angel doesn’t have anything to do with my marrying Connie.”

  I stared at him, my gut lurching. “How do you know?”

  His eyes pieced me like a sword. “Because afterwards, for a brief instant, I saw the same glow around you. It happened again when I first came in here tonight.”

  ****

  “That’s wonderful.” Robin grinned at me, the smile spreading from ear-to-ear. “So did you tell him about The Legend of the True Love Angel?”

  “No, I just said he’d probably been working too hard and had white spots in front of his eyes.” I sipped my coffee from my chair in the break room. “Besides, are you crazy? Why would he believe anything so stupid?”

  Robin squinted at me. “Uh, Earth to Abbie. You believe in the true love angel, remember?”

  “You didn’t.” My laugh came out sounding a little like a hyena’s. “I’m not ready for the loony bin. Why are you advising me to spread what you thought was absurd?”

  “Because he saw the frickin’ angel, you boob!” Robin slammed her cup down on coffee table,
java spilling out all over an old copy of College USA.

  I mopped at the spill with my napkin, avoiding her glare. “That’s another thing. I mean, if she were the real true love angel she’d never have appeared to a man. She only appears to women and only Irish or part-Irish women at that.”

  Robin slapped her forehead. “Come on Abbie, is there a true love angel manual that they give out in Gaelic class? Is this something that’s been documented in research? I’ve never heard anything about this angel, much less her legend. If it weren’t for the fact Dane saw her, I’d swear this was something your family conjured up back when they were in Ireland.”

  Glancing up at her, I frowned. “My family may exaggerate, but never fabricate. Dane’s angel simply has to be an imposter.”

  Robin’s laugh bordered on hysteria. The woman was so high-strung. “Well, then, let’s just tell the authorities they can wait for Dane to see her, then grab and cuff her. Once she’s jailed, we won’t have to worry about her interfering in other people’s lives.”

  I smirked. “Don’t be such a smart ass. I intend to write it off as a coincidence. Besides, Dane is getting married. So that is that.”

  She shook her head. “I think you’re making a big mistake.”

  ****

  “Hey, Abbie, wait up.”

  I turned to see Dane racing across the parking lot. Not even out of breath when he reached me, he smiled down, his eyes never leaving mine. “Look, I owe you one for listening to my stupid story last night. How about grabbing a bite over at Pasquale’s?”

  I wanted to say no, it was, after all, not a very good idea. But my whole body rebelled, his animal magnetism drawing me closer. “Sure, that’s sweet of you.”

  His dazzling white smile weakened my knees.

  Minutes later, we sat in a booth by candle light. It was barely getting dark, but the room had the blinds down. The candlelight flickered across the walls and ceiling, bathing everything in a soft orange glow. I sighed. This was romantic. If only Dane thought of me that way….

 

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