112 Bliss Blvd. (A Cherry Falls Romance)

by Frankie Love

  “For you? Anything.”

  “But you hate public speaking.”

  “But remember when we met? You gave me some really good pointers. Know your topic. Don't fear a moment of silence. Focus on your material.”

  “You remember all that?”

  “I’m good with memorization.” I kiss her again. “See, another reason I can nail this part.”

  Her smile says it all. She’s as into me as I am into her.

  “This night was everything,” she says, staring at me with those baby blue eyes. “But Grant, this offer is the cherry on top.”

  Epilogue 1

  Goldie

  Five weeks later…

  The audience is on their feet, and I’m on stage with the cast, holding hands and taking our final bow. Grant is by my side. The theater is sold out. Mom and Grandma are in the front row, next to Grant’s family.

  It isn’t Broadway, it isn’t downtown Syn City, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s Cherry Falls — the place I belong.

  The clapping dies down, and we’re about to leave the stage, but Grant tugs on my hand. I turn to him and notice the rest of the cast members stepping back.

  Thomas Miller directs the spotlight on me and I shake my head in confusion. We went over every last detail of opening night, and I don’t remember this lighting cue.

  A song begins to play from the sound system — “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”… U2… the song Grant sang to me the first night we slept together.

  I turn to him, trying to understand.

  And he is on his knee. A black velvet box in his hand, open, revealing a sparkling pink diamond the shape of a heart. Literally the most perfect ring in the world.

  “Before you swept into Cherry Falls, I still hadn’t found what I was looking for. And neither had you. You say you were following your bliss by opening this theater, but I think you followed your bliss and found me. Us. I love you, Goldie Greyhound, and I want to love you forever. Not just as the leading man in your play — though this is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

  The audience cheers and laughs. I look over the crowd, see tears in Mom’s and Grandma’s eyes. Everyone that matters to us is here. They all knew.

  I never get stage fright, but right now I feel butterflies like never before.

  But when I look back at Grant I know it isn’t fear I’m feeling. It’s excitement. It’s nervous energy that only happens when everything is about to change in the best possible way.

  “I also want to be your leading man in life, Goldie,” Grant says. “Will you marry me?”

  I wipe the tears from my eyes, thinking how the play we just performed was my interpretation of my grandparents’ love story. They met in this playhouse, fell in love on this very stage.

  And now I am getting my own happily ever after right here, too.

  “Yes, Grant, I will marry you.”

  He grins up at me, slipping the ring on my finger, and I look around at the cast. Kerry Anne is grinning, and so is everyone else. It feels like the whole town is supporting us in this and nothing has ever felt so right.

  Grant pulls me into his arms and kisses me, and I kiss him back. The audience is on their feet cheering us on, and he spins me around.

  The ring fits perfectly, just like his love.

  Outside the theater, Grandma and Mom rush over with hugs and bouquets of flowers. Grant’s brothers are here, congratulating us, and his buddy Cliff is here too. He’s a quiet guy, but solid, and he gives us both hugs.

  “You look happy, man,” he tells Grant.

  “Are you next?” I tease. “Ready to find the right girl and settle down?”

  He chuckles. “It would be quite the woman who could deal with me.”

  I smile as Grandma pulls me away, giving me kisses on the cheeks. “Oh, darling, you did it!”

  “I couldn’t have without everyone’s help.” It’s not an exaggeration. Over the last few weeks I kept running into little snafus and needed Grandma’s help. I have never put on a play like this all by myself. Well, not by myself. Grant did more than take the lead role. He helped build the sets and made me pots of coffee as I stayed up late sewing costumes. He sat with me as I ran numbers, trying to see if this business was even viable — and Garret, his brother, even helped make sure my accounting was in order. He does all of that for the auto shop. Kerry Anne was a lifesaver, going with me to Pearl’s Pawnshop when I needed random props and listening when I felt overwhelmed.

  “Well, from what I hear, everyone’s had a wonderful time helping you. And look, a full house on opening night.”

  I grin. “Not to mention an engagement.”

  She takes my hand, staring at the ring. “It’s so perfectly you, Goldie.”

  I look over at Grant, smiling, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. He catches me staring and comes over, wrapping an arm around my waist. Pulling me aside, he whispers in my ear, “You know those hot pants you’re wearing are driving me crazy.”

  I smile, kissing him. “Well, you can always take me home and pull them off.”

  “First I need some more photos.”

  “Of what?”

  He smiles, pointing up. My name is in lights on the marquee. “Of my fiancée, Goldie Greyhound, in front of her playhouse.”

  He holds up his phone for a photo, and I’m beaming ear to ear. Happy as I’ve ever been. Blissed out and ridiculously in love.

  Epilogue 2

  Grant

  Ten years later…

  I roll over and the bed is empty. That rarely happens. We’ve been married a decade, but Goldie’s sleeping habits haven’t changed too dramatically. She’s tried, and god knows I do my part to wear her out, but she’s a night owl at heart and I don’t want her to change who she is.

  And she never gets up before me. Ever.

  “Goldie?” I get out of bed and follow the sound of running water. Otis is sleeping at the foot of our bed.

  “I’m in here,” she says.

  She’s in our bathroom, her eyes red. She’s been crying and for a moment I fear the worst. God knows we’ve been here before. “What’s wrong?”

  She’s wearing a thin white tank top and a tiny pair of panties that show off her ass in all the right ways. But she shakes her head, disbelief written on her face. “I can’t believe it. I mean I really can’t believe it, Grant.”

  “You’re scaring me, Goldie. Can’t believe what?”

  She presses her lips together, wiping tears from her eyes. Then she steps away from the counter. There are opened boxes littered all over it. A dozen pregnancy tests, taken.

  “Look,” she whispers, handing one to me.

  Two pink lines.

  “Oh, songbird,” I say, tears filling my eyes too. I may be a goddamn mechanic, but I have a heart, a soul — and I know my wife’s one wish.

  “I’m pregnant, Grant. I really, really am.”

  “Oh, love.” I pull her into my arms. It has been years of trying. Hoping. Praying. Losing. Waiting. Waiting. So much waiting.

  And now.

  She’s shaking, tears running down her cheeks, and I don’t wipe them away. This glittering girl of mine has earned each one. These tears are the happy ones you sometimes wait your whole life for.

  “I can’t believe it,” she says. “Doctor Coleman said it would be a miracle.”

  “Whoever said miracles don’t happen?”

  She bites her bottom lip, and I know what she is feeling. Scared to believe her dreams are coming true.

  I lift her, carrying her to bed. “I’m scared,” she whispers, and I lean over her, stroking her cheek.

  “It’s okay to be scared. Just don’t let it take over, you know?”

  She nods, wrapping her arms around me. “I love you.”

  My heart tightens. All I want is for this to take. For Goldie to have her heart’s desire.

  I close my eyes. Making a wish, just like I did at that fountain all those years ago. For Goldie’s d
reams to come true.

  When we hear the heartbeat, we both gasp. We were scared to believe it was real, really happening. That this baby was ours. Here to stay.

  Now, thirteen weeks along, it feels more sure. More real.

  “The heartbeat is strong,” Doctor Coleman tells us. “You can relax now.”

  Goldie’s hand squeezes mine. Her belly has the slightest bump, but the smile on her face is wide.

  “We’re going to be parents,” she says with shock.

  I chuckle. “I guess I should get to work on the nursery then.” Looking at the doctor I add, “When can we find out the gender?”

  But Goldie shakes her head. “No. I want the surprise.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  She nods. “How many truly good surprises does anyone get in life?”

  “Not many, I suppose.”

  “Can we have this?” she asks.

  I kiss her softly. “Goldie, there isn’t a thing on earth I wouldn’t give you.”

  When her water breaks, I’m the dad in all those movies, rushing around like a chicken with my head cut off. Goldie, for once, is cool, calm and collected.

  “Do you need me to drive?” she asks as I run upstairs for her bag, then into the bedroom for her favorite pillow.

  “You can’t drive,” I say. “You’re in labor.”

  “My water just broke, we have time,” she says. “Just breathe.” She grabs my hand, and we stand on the front porch. This big house I bought all those years ago has been waiting for this moment, for our family to grow. The picket fence is still there, bright white, but things didn’t go as we planned.

  But in life, things rarely do.

  Instead of a big family, we grew Goldie’s theater — making it shine nearly as bright as her. A decade since her first production, she now puts on six shows a year, and a yearly children’s Christmas play. And my business is growing too. My brothers are now hitched and things have changed for all of us, but I still show up at the shop every day, tinkering with a new car, taking coffee breaks with my wife every chance I get. We still can’t resist peppermint mochas.

  I pull Goldie into my arms now, her baby bump huge and perfect — and I can’t help but think of the life we’ve shared. How far we’ve come. Being opposites has come in handy — we complement one another.

  “Are you ready?” I ask her.

  She nods, looking up at me. “So ready.”

  “You are going to do great,” I tell her, finally coming down a bit from the initial rush of panic when her water broke.

  She laughs. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “Don’t be. We got this, you and me.”

  At the hospital, things move quickly. It may be her first baby, but her labor progresses fast, and after only a few hours, Doctor Coleman is here, telling her to push.

  “I’m ready,” she says, tears in her eyes. I’m so proud of her; fear has ruled a lot of her life, but right now she is giving in to her ability. She is believing in herself. She can do this.

  And she does.

  She screams something fierce, her fingers digging into my skin, but she doesn’t skip a beat.

  And great is her reward, because after the searing pain, we hear the cry of a baby. Our baby.

  “It’s a girl,” I say as the doctor places our daughter on Goldie’s chest. A beautiful screaming baby girl with a thick head of hair and ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. She is here, ours. And I fucking lose it. Tears in my eyes, love flooding my heart. I know I’m the man of the house — but now I’m a father. This girl’s father. And the beauty in that floors me.

  When they are both cleaned up, I stand next to the hospital bed, love filling this room. Goldie hands me our little girl, and I kiss my wife, then our baby’s head.

  “What should we name her?” I ask Goldie.

  “There is only one name that fits. Bliss.”

  .

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  About the Author

  Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.

  As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters.

  She also believes in the power of a quickie.

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