by Ellie Hall
“Fine,” she relents with a smirk. “So I’m a little fancy. But I don’t mind less fancy things. Like these sweats. They’re kinda growing on me. And these shoes—they’re so comfortable! They would look better with some bling on them, though.”
I listen to her go on about all the other things she’d do to improve those sneakers as I grin like a fool. I’m awestruck by Josie. Her outfit does nothing to hide her beauty; it actually enhances it. These casual clothes allow her to relax and her heart to shine. I’m blown away that she cares about me so much to have put aside her own needs for mine. It almost makes falling on my backside worth every ache and pain I endured the past half an hour.
Scratch that. It absolutely was worth it.
“What is it?” Josie’s expression turns uncertain. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’m staring because you’re beautiful. You’re stunning, Josie. I’m not talking about your clothes or your shoes. You could wear a potato sack if you wanted to. It’s your heart and how good you are to me. Even as a kid, you were watching out for me. Sharing your cookies, saving me a seat at the dinner table, making sure the fridge was stocked with my favorite soda—you always thought of me.”
“I had such a big crush on you then,” she groans. “I’m just grateful you didn’t laugh at me or blow me off.”
“What, and risk getting my head bit off? I didn’t dare.”
She narrows her eyes, not in the least amused.
“I’m joking. I appreciated everything you did for me then, and now. You dressing up—or down in your case—and deciding to tackle the toilet problem so I wouldn’t have to is just about the most romantic thing you could do in my book.”
“It is?”
“Absolutely.”
She taps a finger against her mouth. “Even more romantic than when I gave you my bunny to sleep with?”
“Much more romantic.”
“What about when I proposed to you?”
I pretend to ponder her question. “Even more than that.”
“What if I proposed to you now?”
“Say what?”
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’m kidding. I don’t have time to propose. I have a toilet to insulate.” She holds her hand out. “Sealant, please.”
Her cheeky smile makes me laugh. This woman keeps on surprising me in the best of ways. I can’t believe how much has changed just in the few days that Josie’s come back into my life. I’d thought I had everything figured out by now—the future, my retirement, and most of all, bachelorhood. But I should’ve known that God would keep me on my toes. Even in midlife, His blessings keep on coming. This one in the form of a beautiful, vivacious redhead has got to be the best gift yet. She’s everything and more that I could have asked for in a companion. And I can’t wait to see what life with Josie will bring … starting now.
I place one end of the tube in her palm and hold on to the other end. As soon as she closes her fingers around the plastic, I tug on the sealant, bringing Josie a step closer.
“Graham! What are you doing?”
“Before we get to work, I was wondering if you have time to pick up where we left off earlier?”
“Earlier?” Her lips curve into a knowing smile. “Oh, you mean before we got interrupted.”
I eagerly nod. “You know, I always wondered why I didn’t meet anyone I wanted to settle down with. It turns out I just wasn’t done waiting yet. But now that you’re here …”
Placing a hand on my chest, she tilts her chin up to look at me. “You’re done waiting?”
I take her hand and place a kiss on each of her fingers. “I am so done. Charred, burned, scorched—I’m all that and more! I’ve waited an awfully long time for you, Josie Child.”
“That must be why you’re so smokin’ hot, Graham Kendall.” Laughter dances in her eyes. “Oh wow, that was corny! What are you doing to me?”
“Making you happy, I hope?”
“Oh, definitely yes.” She throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you for waiting for me. And to answer your question, yes, I would very much like to pick up where we left off.”
Her fingers play with the hair at the back of my neck, sending tingles along my skin. The way she looks at me makes me feel twenty years younger. If only I was as flexible as a spring chicken. “I wish I could carry you in my arms again—”
“Don’t you dare even try! At least not until your back heals. Then you can carry me whenever and wherever you like.”
“Yes, ma’am. Until then …” I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her flush against myself. A gasp escapes my lips the moment her curves meld to my body. Heat erupts from my core, traveling all the way up my neck. My heart races like I’m flying down the freeway on my bike. And this is all before our lips meet.
Lord, have mercy!
I dip my head and press my mouth to hers, gently and tenderly. This moment, years in the making, is everything I could have hoped for. I take it all in, enjoying the way Josie matches each movement and gives more in return. Just when I think it couldn’t get any better, she takes the lead and deepens the kiss. One taste of her sweetness has me sunk. When we finally pull apart, I’m seeing stars.
“You’re flushed, Graham!” Josie presses her palm to my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m more than okay! I haven’t felt this alive in years. Your kisses are better than any multivitamin on the market. My backside’s feeling better already, too.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m feeling good enough to tackle that toilet insulation.”
“Oh, thank God!” Her smile widens. “I would really appreciate the help. I have no idea what I signed up for, and the thought of doing it alone makes me weak in the knees.”
“You sure it wasn’t the kiss?”
“It very well could be the kiss. ’Cause that was a spectacular one.”
“I agree.” I laugh and pull her close. “Don’t worry about going near the toilet. I’ve got it covered. It’s a good thing you’re dating a plumber now.”
She beams. “It’s a very good thing I’m dating a plumber.”
Epilogue
Josie K.
San Jose, CA
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 7/20/2021
What can I say? Dooty Calls Plumbing is everything they promise to be—professional, affordable, and they always leave the toilet seat down (even in the middle of the night!). It’s owned by THE hottest plumber in town, but don’t go gettin’ any ideas, ladies, because he’s all mine! Yep, that’s right, I married Mr. Graham Kendall, my sexy plumber extraordinaire! Exactly three months to the day of when he first showed up to fix my leaky toilet, he popped the question at our favorite Chinese restaurant. And we sealed the deal a month ago in the presence of our closest friends and family. We even invited Gus, the furry friend who gave us the (literal) push we needed to give love a chance. I can honestly say I’ve found the man of my dreams who treats me like a queen. What does this all have to do with plumbing? Everything! My hubby is the king of porcelain thrones, and he’s the one you want to call to keep yours up and running. So, don’t delay! Give Dooty Calls Plumbing a ring today!
Connect with Liwen Y. Ho
Liwen Y. Ho works as a chauffeur and referee by day (AKA being a stay at home mom) and an author by night. She writes sweet and inspirational contemporary romance infused with heart, humor, and a taste of home (her Asian roots).
Visit her website and follow on Facebook.
Looking for Love (Sort Of)
Meg Easton
If having Chloe’s ten-year reunion at her old high school building that’s now a B&B isn’t strange enough, seeing her recently single high school crush, Josh, certainly is. Chloe is as sure she’s over Josh as she’s sure he doesn’t even know she exists, and Chloe’s never (okay, she’s usually) wrong.
1
Chloe
For the record, Chloe wasn’t afraid of birds.
Also for the record, Chloe loved Beverly and
loved being her at-home nurse. So she was willing to drop everything she was doing and help the older woman anytime she needed her. Even when, like today, it meant that she’d be late for the one last desperation yoga class she and Jia were going to get in before their ten-year reunion.
Yet, anytime she got a message from Beverly asking for help with her Eclectus parrot, Marty McFeatherbeak, Chloe wanted to claim she had a bird allergy.
She opened the older woman’s front door. “Beverly?”
“In the closet room!”
As Chloe made her way to the bedroom that was filled with so many racks of clothes that it was basically a giant closet, Beverly kept talking, calling out loudly enough for Chloe to hear, her voice occasionally getting muffled. “I let Marty out because you know how much he likes to roam free, and he was giving me those puppy dog eyes. I swear I should’ve named him Marty McBarksalot instead. Anyway, I told him, I said, ‘Marty, I am letting you out to stretch your wings and play, but we are not playing hide and seek.’ But you know how well he listens.”
Yep, Chloe knew. For a bird that had supposedly learned a couple hundred words, Marty only paid attention to the ones he liked.
“Did you see what direction he went?” Chloe asked as she stepped into the room filled with fancy clothing and costumes from Beverly’s Broadway days and, much later, her local theater days.
Beverly poked her head up from where she was looking under and around the long clothing items. “No. The little sneak waited to hide until I wasn’t looking. I only have myself to blame.”
Marty McFeatherbeak was the one to blame. Beverly couldn’t have known that, by standing in front of Marty’s cage, covering her eyes, then uncovering them and saying “Peekaboo!” and teaching Marty to respond with “I see you!” she would turn him into this hide-and-seek-addicted monster.
Beverly pushed a few more outfits to one side of the rack. “I’ve already searched the living room and kitchen. Be a dear and check my craft room?”
“Can I give him a stern talking-to if I find him?”
Beverly disappeared behind a rack of clothes. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s going to get him any closer to referring to you as ‘Most Benevolent Queen Chloe.’”
Chloe walked into the craft room and searched in the obvious places, which were plentiful. Beverly had embraced crafting just as enthusiastically as she had embraced acting in her younger years before her diabetes had started restricting her a bit. The blasted bird wasn’t behind any of her bolts of fabric, under the crafting table, beside the tall racks of paper and paper tools, or around the backside of the paper and vinyl-cutting machine.
She put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. The only place left was the closet that held everything small enough to fit in a clear-front container, and it just happened to have one door open. She pulled the second door open and did a quick look around. “Marty?” she called out, knowing he probably wouldn’t answer, but also knowing that he loved hiding in the middle of this area filled with drawers and boxes of beads, fancy boxes, racks of acrylic paints, and a million other odds-and-ends craft notions.
The light didn’t reach every corner of the closet, so Chloe pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and turned on the flashlight. She had maneuvered until she was bent at the waist, a set of portable drawers beneath her and a shelf right above her, trying to shine a light in the six inches of space behind the drawers where Marty had hidden once. Nothing.
Then, directly behind her, a sinister, inhuman voice said, “I see you.”
Chloe bolted upright while spinning to meet the threat, but she had forgotten how tight the space was, and she whacked her head on the shelf above her, dropping her phone. Before the stars blinding her vision had a chance to clear, something fell from the shelf above. Actually, a lot of small somethings, and they all hit her head and shoulders before falling to the ground, covering her in some kind of powdery sand-like substance.
She coughed a few times, trying to clear her throat and lungs, and then brushed the stuff off her face so she could open her eyes.
As Chloe gasped for air, the blasted green bird with the red and blue on his wings flitted to the top shelf of a rack of paper less than two feet away from her face, and squawked, “I see you.” And not in a “Look at how cute and smart I am!” way—it was more of an “I’m here to mock you and revel in my diabolicalness” way.
“Oh no,” Beverly said as she came into the room, taking in the mess. “That’s my embossing glitter—you poor dear. Marty, did you do this to Chloe?”
As if he were made of angel dust and starlight instead of gremlin mischief, Marty glided over to Beverly’s shoulder and started nuzzling his little feathered head into her neck.
“Marty,” Beverly said, her voice sounding like a fourth-grade teacher talking to a kid caught fighting at recess, “did you do that to Chloe?”
The bird swiveled his head to inspect Chloe, like he was seeing her condition for the first time, and squawked, “Most Behemoth Green Chloe, I see you!” Then he flitted back over to the paper racks and looked at her again, basking in his handiwork at turning Chloe into a sparkly rainbow. In the devilish voice he seemed to reserve only for Chloe, he said one more time, “I see you.”
“You funny boy,” Beverly said as she walked over and scooped up the bird. “Let’s get you back in your cage and get Chloe cleaned up.”
“And it’s ‘Most Benevolent Queen Chloe,’” Chloe called after them. Most Behemoth Green Chloe made her picture their neighborhood garbage truck. And she was pretty sure he was getting a chuckle out of it each time.
It turned out that glitter didn’t just brush off or wash off with good old soap and water. It took packing tape. And oil. Lots and lots of oil. And cotton balls—in a brushing motion, not a smearing motion. By the time they were done, Chloe’s arms, neck, face, and even scalp were exfoliated within an inch of her life and she was more moisturized than she had ever been.
Every time Chloe winced at some new method to remove the glitter, Marty would say his other favorite phrase—“Everything’s fine. You won’t fail.” Because Marty was Marty, he somehow made a phrase that sounded encouraging when he said it to Beverly sound sarcastic when he said it to Chloe. Like everything wasn’t fine and she was doomed to fail.
“You’ve got your reunion starting tomorrow, right?” Beverly asked as she used the kitchen faucet to rinse the shampoo—and hopefully all the excess coconut oil—out of Chloe’s hair.
Her question made Chloe realize that she’d missed her yoga class entirely. A dozen texts from Jia were probably waiting on her phone.
“Yep! I can’t wait.” Truthfully, she was excited. But also nervous. So the emptiness in the pit of her stomach was currently mixing it up with the butterflies in her stomach, as if both emotions knew they couldn’t coexist and were battling it out for dominance.
Chloe really, really wanted to ask Beverly if her grandson, Josh, was going to be at the reunion. Not that she cared. The 10 Reasons Why I Have a Crush on Josh Trevorrow list she’d made back in high school didn’t mean anything now.
Josh had grown up in the same gated community as Beverly, in the house right across the street. His parents still lived there, but Josh worked in Des Moines, which was a three-hour drive away, and Beverly had said he didn’t visit often. Chloe had seen his car a few times, but she had only caught a glimpse of him once or twice since high school, and not in years. Beverly talked him up all the time though, and Chloe could tell the two of them talked on the phone regularly.
She could totally ask Beverly if he planned to attend. It would in no way hint at her long-ago crush. Her head was still down in the sink, so it wasn’t like her expression could betray her. “Have you heard if Josh is going to be there?”
Beverly turned off the faucet and started squeezing the excess water out of Chloe’s hair. “Last I heard, no. Want me to call and tell him that you’re interested in his answer?”
“No!” Chloe lifted her head from
the kitchen sink quickly, smacking the back of her head on the faucet. She had to stop doing that! She rubbed the sore spot as Beverly squeezed more water from her hair. “I was just making conversation.”
It shouldn’t matter, because Chloe no longer had a crush on Josh. The 10 Reasons Why I Should Get over Josh Already list that she’d made her senior year of high school had done its job. She was totally, one-hundred-percent over him.
The corner of Beverly’s mouth lifted like she knew that maybe Chloe wasn’t quite one-hundred-percent over him. As if to punctuate Beverly’s smirk, Marty McFeatherbeak chirped, “I see you!”
“Maybe you’ll meet a cute single guy there,” Beverly said.
Chloe laughed. “Not likely. Whoever my ‘soulmate’ is, he gave up waiting for me long ago and married someone else.” Chloe was so convinced of it, she had already consigned herself to either spending life alone or marrying someone who wasn’t her “perfect for her” guy. But would that even have a chance of working out? She was leaning heavily toward living life alone. Maybe she would get a talking bird to keep her company.
One who was nicer than Marty.
“Or he’s still waiting. Don’t you go thinking you don’t have chickens before they’ve had a chance to hatch.”
Chloe laughed. It was always a bird metaphor with Beverly. The problem was, Chloe wasn’t counting her eggs. She had no eggs.
“Are you staying over at the reunion?” Beverly asked as she draped a towel over Chloe’s hair. “It’ll be something to see what the couple who bought the old high school has done with it. I still can’t believe they’ve turned it into a bed and breakfast.”
Chloe wrapped the towel around her hair, grabbing bunches of it in the towel to dry it. “Not a bed and breakfast—the school’s too big for that. It’s some kind of event center. Like a place for corporate retreats, school reunions, family reunions, stuff like that. But I don’t know—they don’t even have a sign out front yet.”