Rescued by the Woodsman

by Parker, M. S.

  “Why don’t you bring him back here? I want to see what he wants.”

  She nodded and turned to go. Then she paused, looking at Mallory. “It was just Kendrick, right?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Mom and Paisley aren’t even in town. They left for Italy a couple of days ago. I drove them to the airport.” The smile on her face was decidedly strained.

  The room had been bright and laughing a few minutes ago, but now it was quiet, too quiet. I had the sudden urge to ask someone to turn on a radio.

  Mallory came up behind me. I was standing on a stool while Mom and Tarja were making last minute tweaks, so I towered over my sister. She was already two inches shorter than me, but now I looked like a giant next to her. I grinned at her. “You look like one of those characters from that book you used to sneak to me – Gulliver’s Travels. The Lilliputians?”

  She laughed. “Sometimes I feel like a Lilliputian. You’re a beautiful bride.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Mom put a steadying hand on my back, but I wasn't sure who was supporting who. Slowly, I shifted my gaze in the mirror to see Kendrick standing in the doorway, Ginnifer at his side, looking like she was standing guard. I felt a rush of affection for her. She was trying so hard to make up for everything she'd put Jal through.

  Kendrick looked around the room, his face flushing at the sight of a bunch of women, decked out in their best, surrounding me. Mom had a pin in her hand, and I wondered if she was seriously considering stabbing him with it. I wouldn't stop her.

  He nodded at everybody, and when he saw my mom, something softened on his face. “Malla.”

  She inclined her head. “Hello, Kendrick.” Then she looked at me. “I expect you’d like a moment alone?”

  Panic flooded me. I didn't want to do this alone, but she was already ushering everybody in the sitting room off to the side.

  In seconds, everyone else was gone, and it was just us.

  “I’ve already made my apologies to Jal.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, ruining the lines of one very expensive suit. If Diamond were here, she’d have scolded him.

  I considered stepping off of the stool, but it put me closer to his height and, at the moment, I liked that. “I know. He told me that you’d written to him.”

  “No.” He looked away, then forced his gaze back. “That's not what I meant. I went to see him before I came in here. Considering what I'd done, I figured I should man up and actually apologize, not have my assistant send him some bullshit half-ass apology.”

  “Wow.” I blinked at him. He actually sounded like something of the man I'd known as a child, the man my mother had fallen in love with. I managed a wobbly smile. “You look like Kendrick Hedges, and you sound like him, but that doesn’t sound like something he would say.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s occurred to me that Kendrick Hedges is an asshole.” His lips curved up in a partial smile. “And I’m sorry for it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He looked surprised.

  “Yeah. Okay. I can’t say I’ll forget what you did, but…well, you apologized to Jal. If he can let it go…”

  “He said he can.” His voice went low and husky. He started to turn to go but then paused. “Allie, you look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” I didn’t want to think about how close I was to crying.

  * * *

  While we had an interpreter for the majority of the ceremony, TJ’s girlfriend, Carrie, would be doing the interpreting for the wedding vows. She was a natural, having picked it up quicker than most hearing people did. She'd told us a couple days ago that she was considering going into either education with a focus on those with hearing disabilities, or becoming an interpreter herself.

  Her parents sat up front, looking proud enough to burst. They were amazing. They'd liked TJ from moment one and hadn't even blinked over the differences between the two. Now, watching TJ standing at Jal's side, his face glowing as he stared at Carrie, I had a suspicion that these two would be one of the few high school sweethearts who actually made it.

  He'd hit a growth spurt over the last few months and was now pushing five-nine. He’d gotten into playing basketball lately. Jal played with him quite a bit at the community center, and TJ had decided to try out for the school team in the fall. When I'd asked him about it, he'd said, “I can’t hear, but my legs and arms and everything works fine. Other deaf people do it. Why can’t I?”

  I was so proud of him, I hurt sometimes.

  He smiled at me as I walked up the aisle, between both of my fathers.

  Mom had come into the room shortly after Kendrick had left and had said that she and Tyson had talked and that if I wanted my biological father to walk me down the aisle, Tyson wouldn't be hurt by it. I'd only thought about it for a few seconds before I said yes, I wanted them both to do it.

  Weddings were a symbol of new beginnings. Maybe something good would grow from having us all together. Kendrick had never been a perfect father, but he'd never completely abandoned me as many men in his position would have. Tyson had given me the stable father figure at home. It only seemed right that they both give me away.

  Then I saw Jal.

  His eyes were locked on me like nothing else existed, and my heart skipped a beat. The rest of the world faded away. The vows, the rings, all of it passed by in a blur. It was all formality – a wanted formality of course – but we belonged to each from the moment we first met. We were just making it official.

  When he kissed me, the earth finally seemed to stop spinning and everything re-aligned. This was real. It was all real. He was mine, and I was his and we were married.

  * * *

  My head was spinning again when I finally sat down. It could have been from the champagne or the lack of food, but I suspected it was a combination of everything that was making me light-headed.

  Somebody pushed a plate into my hands, and I looked up, met Ginnifer’s eyes. She gave me another one of her cool smiles. “If you pass out on your wedding day, you’ll be sorry. Trust me, I know.”

  I frowned, wondering if there was a story behind those words, but instead of asking, I popped a bit of toast with brie into my mouth.

  “I fainted at my wedding. I hadn’t eaten, didn’t want to risk having anybody see me eat.” She glanced around. “It’s such a passé thing to do – eat in public. But then again, so is passing out.”

  She sat in the seat next to me, holding a plate of her own. After I’d eaten a couple of bites, she sampled a crudité.

  “You made an excellent choice with the caterer, Allie.”

  “You recommended him.”

  “But you chose him.” She studied Jal, dancing with my mother. “Just as you chose my son. You have excellent taste.”

  “I like to think so.”

  She nodded and rose. “Remember, the car will be here in a half hour. Enjoy the honeymoon. I’m going to find my husband for a dance.”

  Husband. I had one of those now. I decided to follow my mother-in-law's example.

  I spent the rest of my reception in my husband’s arms, my head on his chest. It didn’t matter if it was a fast song or a slow one, that was where I stayed. I never wanted to leave.

  “Are you excited?” he asked, his lips next to my ear.

  I looked up at him. “For the trip? Damn straight. I've always wanted to see New Zealand.”

  His bare fingers tripped across the bare skin of my back. “No, wife. By what I’m going to do to you tonight…”

  12

  Allie

  Allie

  Audrey Anne Lindstrom lay in her crib in her nursery, my perfect little angel.

  The whirlwind of activity that started within days of me seeing the little pink plus on the pregnancy test hadn't stopped until mid-January.

  I loved the house where we’d lived, where I first slept with Jal, but he’d been insistent that his child – his children – have the kind of house that was a home, not a fortress. And he wanted us to pick it out
together.

  Granted, the place was still huge, but it definitely looked like a place for a family. There was a yard and a playset. And a pool – behind a stone fence with a gate.

  All these ands – along with others like a family room with an in-home theater – were courtesy of Jal, who simply didn’t know the meaning of excess and whose bank account seemed to have no end.

  I’d drawn a line at the bowling alley in the basement.

  “It’s not like you’re going to go bowling anytime soon, huh?” I asked her, reaching down to stroke one plump cheek.

  She jumped, but it was the touch that had made her move, not my voice.

  We'd had her tested as soon as possible since there was a good chance that my mother's hearing loss was genetic. I'd been torn when the news had come back that Audrey was profoundly deaf. It didn't make her any less perfect in my eyes, but I knew how the world worked, how things would be harder for her.

  But as my mother had told me a hundred times, obstacles in life are what makes us strong.

  Audrey would be just fine.

  We’d make sure of that.

  Arms, warm and strong, came around me, and Jal pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Hello, my beautiful wife,” he said softly.

  “Hello, my handsome husband.”

  We stood there, watching Audrey sleep.

  Jal stroked his hands up and down my arms, and I relaxed into the warmth of his body. “I can’t believe we have to wait three more weeks,” I said.

  “After what I saw?” Jal sounded strained. “It might take me six years before I’m ready to put you through that again.”

  I laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get over it.”

  Turning, I slid my arms around his neck, my stomach clenching at the heat in his eyes. We might not be able to have actual sex yet, but there were still plenty of things I enjoyed doing to him in the meantime.

  But that wasn't at the front of my mind at the moment. We hadn’t talked about certain…things much. After a minute, I pulled away because we needed to talk, which was hard to do it when we were so close.

  I twisted my wedding ring as I looked out the window.

  “You know, there are changes in medical technology, new breakthroughs,” I said. “There are so many options that weren't available for Mom or Tyson, or even TJ. We can–”

  Jal cut me off with a soft kiss.

  Then, he signed, “She’s perfect. If she wants to look into options when she’s older, then we’ll support her. But to me, she’s already perfect.”

  I stepped into his embrace and rested my head on his chest. The steady sound of his heartbeat worked through me, relaxed me. It'd been nearly two years since we'd first met and our lives had been turned upside-down. Getting to where we were had been hard, but it'd been worth it.

  I had a tentative, but real, relationship with my biological father now. Mallory was one of my closest friends. Jal's parents were amazing. The last of the chill between Ginnifer and me had thawed when I told her I was pregnant. Tao, Tony, and Lyrrie were still together. Diamond and Paisley were still furious, but word had gotten out about what they'd done – I was pretty sure Ginnifer had been responsible for it – and now it was the two of them that people talked about behind their backs.

  “You know,” I said softly. “When you first walked into FOCUS, I couldn't have imagined that we'd end up here, like this.”

  “Me either,” Jal admitted. “But I wouldn't change a thing.”

  As I thought about everything that had happened, the good and the bad alike, I realized I wouldn't either. Those months had been hard, but it'd made the two of us stronger, made our relationship stronger.

  “I love you.” I pushed myself up on my toes to brush my lips against his.

  “I love you too.” He brushed my hair out of my face and then grinned. “Now, what do you say we find some creative ways of relieving tension that don't break the doctor's orders.”

  I laughed and let him pull me from the nursery, down the hall, and into our bedroom.

  The End

  Turn the page to start reading Sex Coach.

  Preview Sex Coach

  1

  Michelle

  "Damn, I'm good."

  Leaning back in my seat, I added my byline to the article – Michelle Nestor.

  Too bad my article wasn't for something a little more elaborate than a little local magazine, detailing all the hot happening places in a suburbia.

  It was okay, though. This piece on Phoenicia, NY was another notch on my freelance belt, and the more notches I had, the more I would get.

  And now that this boring piece was done, I could focus on writing something for my aunt. Aunt Blair worked for a much bigger outfit than the Phoenix out of Phoenicia – had to love the alliteration there.

  Aunt Blair worked for Coterie, one of the biggest women’s magazines in the nation.

  Coterie's readers numbered into the millions, and they were all over the country – hell, they were all over the world. Thanks to the miracle of online readership, the few articles I'd actually gotten published by them had been read by people across the globe.

  I had readers in Australia.

  That was such a kick. People in Oz had read my work.

  Not just people up in Buffalo or Phoenicia who'd picked up the Phoenix or another one of the local magazines I'd been lucky enough to get published in – but all across the world.

  It was such a rush to think about it.

  "How about you stop thinking about it and start actually writing another article?" Wiping the dopey grin off my face, I gave myself a kick in the pants so I actually would focus on it. Aunt Blair was happy to take a look at anything I put in front of her, but it had to be something that her reader base would want.

  Sometimes my freelance pieces were hit-or-miss.

  I couldn't help it though. I had never been a normal twenty-something. No matter how hard I tried, normal was just not what I was.

  I liked to pretend it was the writer in me.

  Pulling up the file, I clicked it open and started from the beginning, tightening up the writing as I read through to refresh my memory. It didn't matter that I had a Masters in this shit. When I got in the groove, my brain was firing too fast to worry about things like grammar and spelling. That was why and so often ended up as amd and an became and.

  It was also why I needed an editor.

  A half an hour later, my groove was strong, and I was somewhat thrown when the phone rang.

  Actually, thrown wasn't the word.

  I was irritated. I hated it when I had a good groove going and somebody or something interrupted me.

  This was why I didn't have a cat.

  This was why I didn't have a roommate.

  "This is why you don't have a boyfriend," I muttered.

  Although that was actually a lie. It was one I told to comfort myself when I felt lonely, but it was bullshit.

  Answering the phone, I tried not to sound like I was ready to bite the person's head off through the handset.

  "Make it fast," I snapped.

  Aunt Blair laughed. "Wow. You're either writing something brilliant or you stayed up way too late watching Netflix. Which one is it?"

  Having to recalibrate my attitude and my mood on the fly wasn't easy, but I managed.

  "Both?" I offered. Realizing I was going to be on the phone for several minutes at least, I pushed back from my desk and got up to go get some coffee. Coffee made everything better.

  That was just a fact of life.

  And when you found the coffee pot empty that just made life worse. Groaning, I rinsed out the damn pot and started a fresh batch while Aunt Blair rightly guessed, "Are you out of coffee already?"

  "I'm starting to think you have cameras planted in my office."

  "No, I just know you. Tell me something, love, are you ever going to wake up in a good mood because you've had fantastic sex all night?"

  If only.

  "Sure," I qu
ipped, keeping my voice light to hide the wistfulness inside me. "Who did you have in mind?"

  "I can't help you figure that out, sweetheart." There was something in her voice, though, that made me think I wasn't fooling her. She didn't push. One more reason I loved her above all other aunts, uncles, and cousins. "So, listen, sweetie...I've got some news."

  "Do you?" Interest twitched inside me. When Aunt Blair usually called this early in the morning with news, it was because she had work for me. Especially when she started off the conversation like that.

  I thought about everything I had on my plate and decided most of it could be done fast enough and none of it was important enough that I couldn't work my aunt in. Especially if it had to do with Coterie.

  "Oh, yes," she said, heaving out a sigh that was torn between fervent and beleaguered. "I'm in a bind, sweetheart, and you're a bit inexperienced, but seriously, you're one of the best writers I know and that's what I need. If you do a good job on this, which I'm sure you will, this could be a big break for you."

  I held my breath as she paused, knowing better than to ask a question or interrupt.

  "It was an article that Gina Goddard was going to write. She pitched it to me months ago and we've got the space, everything all lined up. We've already pitched it to our reader base. They're expecting it, but Gina was in a wreck. We're so fucked. Gina can't write for the next month, minimum."

  At first, all I heard was...Gina Goddard.

  Gina was like my guru. I read all of her pieces. I scoured the internet looking for her older articles, and I studied her interview techniques. She'd been in a wreck?

  My heart fluttered. "Oh my goodness, is she okay?"

  "She will be." Aunt Blair gave another strained sigh. "I don't know why she insists on driving that insane little car of hers."

  "Aunt Blair...it's a Porsche. And more, it's a rather unique one. They only produced ten of that particular model the year it was made." Rolling my eyes, I fought the urge to tell her how car-illiterate she was. I was car illiterate, but I looked like an A student next to her.