Stone Hearts

by Kelly, Amber

  “And their son, Beau,” he corrects.

  Myer lifts Beau in his arms and takes my hand and walks us out to greet our loved ones. It was a perfect ceremony. In the ideal place in the center of our hometown and now we will celebrate with fried chicken at Momma’s house and then dancing and drinks with our friends at Butch’s Tavern.

  A truly authentic rustic chic wedding.

  Dallas

  October

  It’s Beau’s seventh birthday, and we’re having a big party this weekend for his friends and classmates, but Myer and I decided to have a small private family celebration tonight and give him our gift. The puppy has been hidden at Myer’s parents’ house for the last week. I can’t wait to see Beau’s face when he lays eyes on the Lab pup. I wanted a smaller dog, like Miss Elaine’s Lou-Lou, but Myer insisted that a boy needs a big dog, not a tiny, prissy furball. I look forward to the day I have a little girl, so I can veto his macho tastes for daintier choices.

  I stop by my attorney’s office on the way home from the bakery. I stare at the papers in disbelief. I’ve waited so long and fought so hard for this day, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

  I decide to surprise both my boys.

  Momma’s picking Beau up from school and dropping him off for me. I prepare his favorite meal of chicken fingers and mac ’n’ cheese and bake a German chocolate birthday cake for dessert. Myer ran by his parents’ to pick up the puppy earlier, and it’s currently sleeping in our closet.

  “You ready for the big surprise?” he asks as he wraps his arms around my waist and plants a kiss on my neck while I stir the cheese into the noodles.

  “Yes. He’s going to be so excited. It’s been hard, keeping it from him.” We get the table set and blow up a few balloons. Just as I get the candles on his cake, the front door swings open, and Beau flies into the kitchen. I swear the boy has one speed, and it’s turbo.

  “Mommy, guess what! Mrs. Martin bought us all Popsicles for recess because it’s my birthday. The whole entire class!” he bellows as he drops his book bag by the door and kicks his shoes off.

  “Wow, that was nice of her,” I say as I bend to give him a kiss.

  “Are you hungry?” Myer asks.

  “Yep. Nana wouldn’t let me have a snack. She said it would ruin my birthday supper,” he informs us as he hops up into a chair.

  We eat while Beau regales us with all the news from his day at school. His teacher always makes the kids feel extra special on their big day. After we finish and clear the table, I light the candles, and Myer carries the cake to the table and places it in front of Beau while we sing “Happy Birthday.”

  “Blow out your candles, baby, and don’t forget to make a wish,” I remind him.

  He closes his eyes tight, takes a moment to make a silent wish, and then blows them out in one big huff. I cut the cake, and we each eat our slice. Beau is doing well. I know he’s trembling with anticipation, waiting for his birthday present, but he doesn’t rush us.

  “Okay, little man, go have a seat on the couch,” Myer instructs as I put away the remainder of the cake.

  Beau runs to the couch, and Myer goes to our room to get the box. I placed the puppy with a blanket in a large cardboard box I wrapped in paper. It has a lid, and Myer places a huge red bow on top just before he walks it in and sets it on the floor in front of the couch. The puppy must still be sleeping because he doesn’t make a peep. I join them.

  “Happy birthday, baby. Go ahead and open it.” I give him permission, and he jumps down and tears into the box.

  He squeals in delight when he catches sight of the dark brown bundle. The puppy stirs as Beau reaches in and picks him up. Once he is fully awake, he starts squirming and licking Beau’s cake-smeared face with vigor, and Beau can barely hold on to him as he giggles.

  “What’s his name?” Beau asks as he sits down with the pup in his lap.

  “He doesn’t have one yet. He’s your dog. You get to name him,” Myer answers.

  He thinks for a minute, and then his face lights up.

  “Cowboy. His name is Cowboy!” he exclaims.

  The puppy starts yapping.

  “I think he likes that,” Myer agrees with the choice.

  I walk over to my purse and pull out the envelope, and I stand in front of them both.

  “I have something else for you,” I announce, and Myer gives me a quizzical look.

  “Oh boy! Another surprise?” Beau says.

  I slide the paperwork out of the envelope and hand it to Myer. He briefly looks it over before his eyes come back to mine, watery.

  “What is it?” Beau asks as he scoots closer to Myer to look at the papers.

  “It’s adoption papers, buddy,” Myer chokes out as he wraps an arm around Beau’s shoulders.

  Beau brings his big brown eyes to me for an explanation.

  “We’re going to fill those out tonight. Then, in a couple weeks, we’ll go before the judge down at the courthouse, and when he signs them, you’ll officially be Myer’s son,” I tell him as I hold back tears.

  He lets the news sink in, and he looks at Myer. “You’ll be my daddy for real?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll legally be your daddy,” Myer confirms.

  “And my name will change to yours and Mommy’s name?” he asks.

  “Yes, baby. I’m petitioning for the name change at the same time as the adoption,” I inform them both.

  “Mommy, it worked! My birthday wish came true!” he squeals in delight.

  The puppy slides off his lap and onto the cushion as Beau leaps up into Myer’s lap and wraps his arms around his neck.

  “I knew God accidentally gave me the wrong daddy the first time. We just had to find you,” Beau cries into Myer’s throat.

  I watch my husband hold our son through tears. Then, I unleash the last surprise.

  “I have one more present, and this one is for both of you,” I say.

  They turn to me, and Myer’s eyebrows rise in confusion.

  I pull the test from the envelope and hand it to Myer. Beau looks down at his hand and wrinkles his forehead.

  “Are you ready to give your last name to two?” I ask Myer as he stares at the stick.

  “Are you serious?” he asks in amazement.

  I nod and bite my lip.

  “What is it?” Beau asks as he watches Myer’s reaction.

  “Mommy is making you a big brother for your birthday,” Myer says as he squeezes Beau tight.

  I join them on the couch, and Myer wraps us both in his arms.

  “Are you happy?” I ask him.

  “So damn happy,” he answers.

  “Yeah, so happy! It’s the best birthday ever!” Beau pronounces, and Cowboy barks his agreement.

  It sure is.

  The End

  Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

  He’s too old for her.

  She’s innocent.

  He’s wild.

  And her brother will kill them both.

  Wicked Hearts

  Poplar Falls, Book 3

  April 2020

  Preview of Rustic Hearts

  Sophie

  Twelve Years Old

  “Why do we have to leave now?” I ask drowsily as Momma frantically throws my belongings into my pink suitcase at the edge of my bed.

  “Because we need to be gone before your father gets home tomorrow. I already explained this to you.”

  “I still don’t understand. What did he do that was so bad?”

  “You’re too young for all the details, Sophia. I will tell you one day, but for now, we have to get our things and get out of here if we’re going to catch our flight to New York. You’ve always wanted to go to New York, right? That’s why I chose it.”

  I have always wanted to go to New York City. Ever since I became obsessed with Big City Girl, which was a television program that came on Friday nights and followed the lives of a glamorous group of friends living in the Big Apple. They were all
beautiful, wealthy, in college, and having the time of their lives. I wanted to be Sinclair Alcott one day. I didn’t think that day would be today.

  “When are we coming back? School starts in two weeks, and Blackberry’s foal is due anytime now. I have to be back in time to help. She’s my horse.”

  Momma stops her progress and finally looks at me. The manic excitement is draining from her face.

  “I’m not sure when we will be back,” she says a little more calmly. “You might be going to school in New York for a while.”

  What? I might want to visit New York one day, but this is home. The ranch, my horse, Daddy, and all my friends are here.

  “I don’t want to go to school there. I want to go to school here in Poplar Falls.”

  Her face falls at my declaration. “We can discuss this later. Here, get up and get your coat and shoes on. Now, young lady.”

  I begrudgingly do as I was told. I know my mother well enough to know that arguing with her when she is in this state is futile. I’ll just have to call Daddy as soon as I’m able and get him to calm her down. He’s the only one who has ever been able to talk her down, and he’ll convince her to come back home.

  “Stop sulking, Sophia,” she says as she wraps her arm around me in the back of the taxi as we drive away from our farmhouse. “You’re going to love this new adventure of ours. I promise.”

  I turn and look out the back windshield at the barn as we drive down the long driveway. I sure hope Blackberry holds on a little longer. I don’t want her to wonder where I am when her baby is born. She’ll think I abandoned her. I would never leave her or my daddy and my best friend, Dallas. They’re my absolute favorite people. Technically, Blackberry is not a person, but she loves like one.

  I do my best to hold back tears as the barn fades off into the distance.

  Momma continues to try to convince me of the fun we’re going to have.

  “We will find an apartment in the city, close to Central Park. There are lots of animals in the park and horse-drawn carriages. You’ll be able to see horses every day. I’ll get a job and work during the day, we’ll enroll you in a fabulous school, and in the evenings, I can audition for Broadway. It might take me a little while to get back into performance shape, but I will, and you can take ballet classes and voice lessons. It’s going to be an amazing adventure. You’ll see.”

  Excitement oozes from her pores as she squeezes me into her side.

  There is no use in trying to reason with her when she gets like this, so I nod and play along for now.

  “Sure, Momma, it’ll be amazing.”

  I hope Daddy sees my note soon.

  Sophie

  “Stall them until I get there. Offer them coffee and doughnuts or a margarita or ten. Whatever it takes to keep their asses in those seats,” I instruct my assistant, Charlotte, as I frantically try to hail a cab.

  The electricity to my building was cut while I was in the middle of washing my hair this morning. A construction worker on the building site at the corner had dug in an area that he wasn’t supposed to and cut our main power line. I got out of the shower, tried to get myself dressed appropriately in the dark, and towel-dried my long blonde hair as best I could. Then, I threw it up in an unflattering top knot and ran out the door, only to find the elevator was in slow motion, running on the backup generator. This left me with the option of waiting a long while for an elevator packed full of frustrated occupants or to take the stairs down the ten flights to the lobby. I opted for the stairs—bad choice. Ten flights down on my sky-high Manolos was a dangerous undertaking, and it took forever, so now, I’m facing rush-hour traffic in Midtown Manhattan on an unusually warm September day, heading to meet with what will undoubtedly be some pretty put-out business associates when I finally make it in.

  I arrive at my office off 36th Street and run as fast as I can to the conference room with Charlotte on my heels.

  Charlotte and I have been friends since we were in middle school. She was the first person I met when Mom and I arrived in New York over twenty years ago. Why my mother placed me in a private Catholic school is beyond me—I had been raised Baptist—but I’m so glad she did. I would have been lost without Charlotte and her blonde pixie cut and no-nonsense attitude.

  Right now, however, she is a tad frantic. Like a little fairy flitting around me.

  “The gentleman’s name is Marcus Stedman. He’s the general manager of the Park Avenue store, and the lady’s name is …”

  “Gail Caldwell, the head buyer for all of the Maple and Park department stores. I know who she is.” I snatch the folders she just dug from her briefcase and pass her my coat and bag as we hurry down the hall.

  “They’ve had coffee and doughnuts, and I entertained them with stories from my SoulCycle class. Thank God you’re here because I don’t think they want to hear about last night’s disaster of a date, and I’m running out of interesting material.”

  Dear Lord. If I’m able to save this deal, it will be a miracle.

  I stop in the hallway leading to the conference room and take a moment to compose myself. “How do I look?”

  “Like a wet puppy who ran all the way here from Chelsea.”

  “Perfect, just the look I was going for. How do I smell?”

  Charlotte leans in and wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Like an old gym bag.”

  Awesome.

  She reaches in her briefcase, grabs a bottle, and liberally spritzes me.

  “Ugh, what was that?”

  “Perfume. It’ll help.”

  “Perfect. Now, I smell like a sweaty flower.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about it. They aren’t here to sniff you anyway. Go.” She shoves me toward the door. “They’re here to pitch to you, not the other way around.”

  I turn back to her and say in a small voice, “Tell me we deserve this.”

  “You deserve this, Sophie,” she confirms.

  “We,” I correct her. “We deserve this.”

  She smiles a pleased smile. “We deserve this. Now, go get ’em.”

  I smooth the front of my dress and take a deep, calming breath before I open the door and walk in.

  All eyes turn to me as I make my way to the head of the conference table and introduce myself. “Hello, Gail, Marcus. I’m Sophia Lancaster.” I clear my throat and continue, “But you can call me Sophie. Please accept my sincere apology for keeping you waiting. There was an unavoidable hiccup at my building this morning that delayed me.”

  Marcus shifts to extend his hand to me. Annoyance clear in his expression.

  Gail offers her hand next with a genuine smile. “It happens. I’m afraid we’re going to have to jump right into business though. We have another meeting in an hour.”

  “Of course.”

  She taps on the laptop in front of her, and the screen of the television on the opposite wall illuminates with a PowerPoint presentation.

  “As you know, Maple and Park is interested in a partnership. We would like for you to design a few exclusive pieces to be sold only in our stores and online through our website.”

  A small thrill shoots through me at the thought of my jewelry designs being sold in one of Park Avenue’s trendiest department stores.

  “When you say exclusive pieces, that means, we can’t sell other designs to other partners or on our website, correct?”

  She looks up and smiles warmly. I’m obviously new to all of this.

  “No, you are only obligated to keep the pieces we approve exclusive to Maple and Park. You can continue to design and sell anything else privately or through any other retail outlets.”

  I give her an appreciative nod as Marcus takes over.

  “We want new designs. Something no one else has seen or worn before. We’ve outlined what we’re looking for to help you. Simple. Elegant. We’ll start small with a few pendants, rings, and bracelets. Test the market. If those do well, we can revisit our contract and extend to earrings and brooches. We want to launch t
he line before the holiday season, so that gives you a couple of weeks to get with our art department and get samples in.”

  “Okay, I can get some sketches together fairly quickly. Do you have projected sales? As of now, our newly purchased warehouse is being renovated and equipped to begin assembly, and I think we’ll be up and running within the month. My staff is still minimal, but we’re interviewing. Depending on the volume—”

  He puts his hand in the air to halt my rambling. “We realize you’re a start-up. We’re buying the designs, and the customers will know and appreciate they are custom pieces. So, at first, we’ll need a small amount for display and for purchase at our two locations. Online orders can be made to order.”

  Relief replaces the tension that was strumming through my body.

  I started designing quirky jewelry pieces while I was a student at New York School of Design. I would sketch out each unique piece, then buy the materials, and make them by hand in my apartment at night. I sold a few of them at the Williamsburg open market in Brooklyn on weekends, and that led to me opening an online Etsy shop. It was a way to make easy money while finishing my degree. Sales were steady enough, and I was pleased to be creating something. Then, one day this past June, my world exploded when the Judy Winston wore one of my brooches to the Tony Awards. She won for Best Actress in a Musical and was photographed with her award, wearing my piece front and center on her gown. She later that night told an E! News interviewer that she had purchased it from my online site. The next day, orders started pouring in—hundreds and hundreds of orders. There was no way I could fulfill the volume from my living room. That was when Stanhope stepped in. Stanhope Marshall is one of the most successful businessmen in Manhattan, and he just so happens to be married to my mother, Vivian. He came to me with a proposition, and just like that, I had my first investor in Sophia Doreen Designs, LLC.

  It’s been a whirlwind ever since. Now, I have a sleek office in an uptown building owned by Stanhope; twelve full-time employees, including Charlotte; and a warehouse in the Fashion District that is being converted into a workshop as we speak. I’m about to close my first major deal to have my line in a real-life brick-and-mortar store. Exciting doesn’t begin to describe this feeling.