by Liz Crowe
“I don’t know. I kind of spaced out through some of it.”
“She told me that big things were about to happen in my love life and to take the bull by its horns. She said that. The bull. You know, like cattle!”
“Oh, don’t listen to that hunk of horse manure. She’s joshin’ ya. She could read you like a Bible on Sunday in church.”
“Not funny, Hank. She really did know some things. And what was up with that congratulations stuff? What do you think she was talking about when she said my aura was sparkling and white?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she took too many hits to the head from pissed off customers or was dropped on her head as a baby. Don’t put too much thought into it.” I gripped her around the waist and pulled her to me. “’Sides, the only congratulations that are in order will be when we are both sayin’ ‘I do’ in front of God and everybody.” She kissed me softly. “So, when you think I’m gonna be able to make an honest woman out of ya?” I asked nervous about her answer, but needed to know how long it was gonna take.
Her face fell a bit. “It’s not that I don’t want you. I love you. I’ve never loved a man the way I love you. And for the first time in my life, it actually feels like forever.” She smiled and her eyes twinkled as they sought mine. “But we just got back together. I don’t want to rush it,” she admitted.
“We got nothin’ but time, Angel. It’s me and you against all odds.”
“I love you, Hank. All your pieces,” she said. I’d heard her say that to Oliver and her sister once before.
“What does that mean?”
She smiled and searched my face then settled those clear-water blues to mine. “It means that no matter what, I love everything about you. Good, bad, and everything in between. All your pieces.”
“I love all your pieces, too, Angel.”
Epilogue
It was October and we were closing in on the holidays fast. Hank and I had spent the last three months really getting to know one another on a level outside of the physical. He had received a clean bill of health from the doctor who performed his surgery. We were warned that he should still take it easy and work up to lifting heavier amounts week by week, building back up to the couple hundred pounds he was bench pressing prior to the accident. I added more weights to our home gym so that he could build up, and hired us both a personal trainer.
Hank wasn’t thrilled with having what he said was a “half-naked” man working out with me, but all it took was letting him bend me over every piece of equipment in the gym for him to get comfortable with the idea. He said it helped him believe I’d be thinking of what we did on that equipment when the trainer was having me use a particular piece. Such a wacko.
Hank’s business was booming as well. He said he had more work in New York than he’d ever had back in Texas. Mac was running the Texas branch and enjoying being at home with his family. A few of the single guys chose to stay in New York, preferring the big city life over the country living. Hank offered to pay them quite a bit more per hour to fit the cost of living and average pay for men that did that type of work here in the city. With Ollie’s help, Hank hired a receptionist, office administrator, and a few other needed positions, including a dozen new crew members to serve on the jobs out in the field. According to Ollie, he was going to need to double the size of his staff within a year’s time due to the jobs he was turning down even after he’d won the bid. We discussed my concerns that he was underselling his work. He felt it appropriate to make good money for a decent day’s work, which kept him beating out all the bids. More bids were approved than he was able to handle, but it was a good problem to have in the grand scheme of things.
Bright Magazine was knee-deep in preparations for the January 1st launch. The buzz was big, and I felt confident that the team we’d hired and the first sets of interviews, photo-shoots, and columns would intrigue the public to take a chance on a new magazine. Plus, we had one of the hottest celebrities in the market half-naked on the cover. You couldn’t go wrong with a beautiful man to get the average woman’s attention, as well as the married and at-home-mom demographics.
My only complaint was that I constantly felt like crap. The last few weeks had been filled with headaches, loss of appetite, then ravenous hunger, exhaustion, crazy bursts of energy, and the feeling that I just wasn’t myself. I knew my body. It was freaking out over the Hank proposal issue. The symptoms were on and off, and corresponded with Hank’s demand that I request his hand in marriage and not the other way around. The problem was, I didn’t know how or when to do it, or whether or not I wanted to. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Hank more than anything else in my life. He was definitely the only man I could ever imagine being in my future, and the only person I’d ever considered marrying.
Then what is your problem? I actually went to the jewelry store a couple times and browsed for rings. Once, Oliver dragged me and demanded I pick one out. Wouldn’t leave until I’d done the deed.
The next day I returned the ring. It wasn’t that the ring didn’t fit Hank. He wouldn’t care one iota what the ring looked like, only that making the leap meant I was ready for more, ready for our forever. He’d been incredible about giving me space, too. He seemed perfectly comfortable with living together and enjoying the last three months, but I knew it was on his mind.
When we’d see couples getting married on TV, in a movie, or receive a wedding invite, Hank would get this wistful look in his eyes. It broke my heart to see his desire, knowing that I could so easily give him everything he ever wished for. But would it last?
My parents’ marriage was not one built on love, trust, and passion. It was a marriage of convenience, a business negotiation. Last week when I was feeling pretty down and out about my lack of ability to give Hank what he wanted—namely, me—I visited my father and asked about their marriage.
“Darling, your mother and I were from the same world. Our families had been acquainted for years. The mutual appreciation between her family and ours went a long way toward our decision to be together. The situation just fit,” he’d said.
“But did you love Mom?”
His eyes searched mine, but held no sparkle, no fond stories about falling madly in love with my mother and sweeping her off her feet so that he would never be without her. “Darling, I learned to love your mother very much. And besides, she gave me the three best things I’d ever created. You, London, and Rio.” He smiled and pulled me in for a hug.
“What would you say if I told you that Hank wanted to marry me?”
He grinned. “I’d say I’m surprised he waited this long. The boy is taken with you, darling. You know he already asked for your hand.” He said it as if he’d asked me to pass the sugar for the tea.
“He asked you? When?”
“Two or three months ago. Said he was going to win you back, and when he did he was going to marry you. Wanted to make sure I was okay with his intentions. I told him that I’d be honored to welcome him into the family. Then I gave him some contacts for his business expansion to look into.”
I shook my head and thought about all that my dad had expounded. “Why didn’t you tell me? That was months ago.”
“Well, I had expected that you would come over and announce your engagement, but since you hadn’t, I didn’t want to pry or ruin the surprise for you. Just a couple weeks ago, though, I got curious and called him to check on his intentions.” He laughed deep in his throat. “He told me he’d turned over the reins on that plan to you. Said he wanted you to be certain you were ready to saddle up with him. His words, not mine.” He laughed and steepled his fingers under his chin. “What are you waiting for, darling?”
“Honestly, Dad, I don’t know. Oliver is beside himself. Dean will hardly look at me. London practically cries every time we speak, and now I find out you’re having secret conversations with my boyfriend behind my back.” I grinned but it turned into a sigh. “And I just haven’t been feeling well. I don’t know. One moment I’m fine, the next I’m ready to cra
wl into bed and close out the world. Both Hank and I have had long days in the office.” It was the most plausible explanation.
“How’s that going? The expansion?”
“Wonderful. Hank is incredibly smart. Turns out he has an architectural and business degree from the University of Texas.”
“Proof that you can’t judge a book by its cover.” He winked at me and sipped his tea. “If you’re not ready to become Hank’s wife, then don’t rush into it. If the man wants you, he’ll wait. And if he loves you, he won’t push you to do something that’s not right for you.”
“No, I know, Dad. He really hasn’t. He’s only brought it up a couple of times over the past three months, hasn’t pushed or prodded at me, but I know he’s ready. Knowing that you approve of him helps. I love you, Dad.” I got up and hugged him.
“He’s a good man and he loves you a great deal. Remember that as you consider your options. Oh, and don’t tell your mother. Maybe just elope.” He laughed. “And can you please visit the doctor and have a checkup? You’ve complained quite often of not feeling well.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I will. Oliver made an appointment for tomorrow, actually.”
The evening had flown by and I’d fallen asleep before Hank even made it home from a dinner meeting. The next morning I slipped out of bed and met Ollie in the spare room that I’d had renovated into a closet and vanity area after Hank moved in. Hank’s closet was now the one off the master bath.
Over the past couple months, Hank and Ollie had gotten past any insecurity over each other’s place in my life, but my cowboy was not compromising on Oliver’s intrusive ways. He would not accept the man coming into our room to wake me. He also preferred he not be anywhere near our morning routine of getting ready. Bought me a silk robe for every day of the week, too, so that I wouldn’t be traipsing around in front of my best friend naked anymore. I knew he wasn’t being controlling, he just had old-fashioned morals and appreciated modesty more than I did.
“You ready to get your shit fixed?” Ollie asked as he handed me a black pantsuit and a silver silk blouse.
“Honestly, Ollie, I know you mean well, but there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just tired. We’ve all been working ourselves to the bone, and Hank and I often choose to spend the evenings wrapped up in one another instead of getting that much needed sleep.”
He smirked. “Uh huh. Whatever. I’ve heard of people like you who have been exhausted all the time, with extreme levels of fatigue, and they had cancer!” He put his hands on his hips.
“What the hell, Ollie? That’s a messed-up thing to say. Are you trying to scare me?”
“Hell yes! I’m scared as shit. You have no idea how many diseases Web MD says you have right now!” His tone was serious but his eyes told another story.
“You’re full of it. I’ll go to the damn doctor. Stop diagnosing me, for crying out loud. I don’t have cancer; I’m just under the weather. I probably have the flu.”
“You could have walking pneumonia and not even know it!”
I rolled my eyes. “Ollie,” I warned. “Call the limo around, please.”
Ollie meant well, but sometimes he could take the cake with his ridiculous ideas. But there was a modicum of truth to his thoughts. I had felt like death warmed over for the better part of two months now. It had to be stress and fatigue. Could I handle if it was something more serious? Cancer? No, no, no. My best friend just had me freaking out for no reason. Walking pneumonia. Was that a possibility? I had been on a ten-day course of antibiotics for a sinus infection shortly after we went to Coney Island. Maybe I just needed another round.
A couple of hours later, the doctor led me back out into the waiting room to meet up with Ollie. I’d forced him to stay there, even though it took the promise of a night at one of New York’s finest restaurants for the four of us to get him to agree. Sometimes my best friend hovered like a helicopter mom. This time I was grateful for his protectiveness. One look at my pale face and he ushered me out and into the limo.
“Pen, okay. I’m ready. What’s wrong?” his eyes were filled with unshed tears. “You’re white as a ghost, tell me!” he screamed.
I handed him the piece of paper that sealed my fate.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”
My Angel was quiet—too quiet—as she sat and looked out the window of the limo. We had dinner reservations at a fancy-pants restaurant uptown. I didn’t quite hate the city anymore, but I could definitely live without the hustle and bustle of the traffic, people always in a hurry, running into one another, and all the gourmet crap. Every time we ate out at one of the places Aspen chose, I always left hungry. We’d have to stop by Fat Johnny’s Hot Dog Stand on the way home. A big man like me didn’t fill up on a speck of meat and a few stalks of asparagus. I needed a ten or twelve ounce steak, a ladleful of mashed potatoes, and a heap of corn to fill the gullet. Throw in a couple pints and you had a happy man.
“Darlin’, what’s the matter?”
“Hmmm?”
“I asked you what’s peckin’ at your brain.”
“I love you, Hank. All your pieces.” She smiled, but it was strange and completely out of the blue.
“Tell me, Angel. What’s the matter? What did the doctor say today? You sick?”
My gut twisted at the thought of my girl being sick. I'd been nervous all day waitin’ to find out the results of all the tests she was gonna have. Oliver had me in a fit with all his printouts from some doctor website that claimed she could have a hundred different diseases … many of which ended in early death. Sweat broke out on my forehead; the hairs on my neck stood at attention as I prepared to hear the worst.
She looked out the window as we arrived at the location. “Let’s chat inside. I’m hungry,” she said as she pulled across me and hopped out.
I took a deep breath and followed the love of my life inside, hoping to God whatever ailed her could be cured. Please, God in Heaven, don’t take away the Angel you sent now that I’ve got her back.
We settled into her preferred table. Having tons of money got her into all kinds of special places. I couldn’t care less, but she seemed to enjoy it, and I enjoyed her being happy.
I ordered a beer and she bypassed the wine, which added to my theory that my life was about to change. She took her time ordering her dinner, substituting fish for chicken, which was strange. She loved seafood and ordered it on most occasions when we ate out. She looked at everyone but me. Those damned alarm bells were chiming like mad.
Gripping her hand over the table, I tugged it and forced her to look at me. “You’re killin’ me, Angel. Are you sick?”
“Nothing that won’t go away after six or seven months,” she said.
“Do you need surgery on something?” My mind was scrambling around, trying to connect the dots, figure out what could possibly need that amount of healing. Hell, even my shoulder was healed up after three months for the most part. “I’m not following.”
“I’m nervous, Stud. Give me a minute.” Nervous Aspen was a new thing. This was not a side to her I’d seen often. She was sitting across from me acting shy, and she looked pale and uncertain. Even her eyes didn’t hold the same fire. I couldn’t imagine what was making her act this way, but I was scared shitless to find out.
A small smile was on her lips and that tiny little quirk of her lips acted like a balm on my own nerves. She took a deep breath and started again. “Since we’ve been together, you’ve made it clear that there were a couple things that would make you the happiest man on earth. Do you remember what you said those were?”
I had no idea where she was going with this, but she bit down on her lip and reached into her purse. She pulled out a piece of paper and the coveted blue velvet box I hadn’t seen in almost three months. My heart started beating so hard in my chest I thought that it was possible to hear it thumping across the room.
“Angel,” I whispered.
“Look inside,” she smiled. I grabbed the box and opened it. Insi
de were two rings. One was a huge square diamond with three circle diamonds hugging the square on each side. I pulled it out and inspected it. It was obviously for her. She smiled when I slipped it on the edge of my pinky finger to examine it. “Pretty nice.” I smiled and she nodded.
The other ring was a band with the whitest gold I’d ever seen. Running through the inside was a raised rope of metal, like one we’d use on roping our cattle back home. “So, does this mean you’re asking me to marry ya?”
Her smile fell and she slowly pushed a small piece of paper across the table. Her finger held whatever it was face-down. After what seemed like forever, her gaze lifted to mine and what I saw there broke me. She had huge tears in her eyes, but wasn’t letting them fall.
“That depends, Hank. If you still want to marry me after you see what’s on the other side of this piece of paper. The deal is, you ask me and in turn, I will ask you.”
I feared the little square of paper, but whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Even if she had a terminal illness and I only had one more day with her, there would have been nothin’ I wanted more than to marry my Angel. Her hand was chilled as I covered it with my larger one. “Angel, I will marry you no matter what. There is nothing I want more in life than to be with you. Forever.”
“Look at it, Hank. Please. ” Her lip quivered, a tear fell, and I turned over the piece of paper. It was black and white and showed a white grainy blob in the center of a dark circle. Like someone had tried to erase black ink off a piece of paper and pressed too hard and got a hazy white smudge for their effort. Aspen’s name was on the top left hand, her doctor’s information on the other side.
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “What am I lookin’ at, darlin’?”
“That’s a picture of our baby.” My eyes shot to hers. Huge tears poured down the sides of her face. Her lips trembled and she licked them. I wanted to kiss them, hug her, laugh with joy and scream. I did none of that. The only thing I could do was stare at the perfect little blob in the grainy image. My child. Our baby.