Authors: T.A. Hardenbrook
“Tie It Up” Kelly Clarkson
9
Months Later
“Congratulations!” Everyone yelled as we walked into the B&B. The room was filled with people that we loved; everyone that had been a part of our lives these last nine months was here celebrating with us tonight.
“Thanks everyone!” I said with a smile
, as Walker squeezed me into side. He placed a kiss to the top of my head, and released the hold on me as he walked over to talk with Derek and Rachel.
“How does it feel?” Rachel asked
, as she swatted their youngest down off the banister.
“Amazing,” I gushed. After nine long months
, I was finally a free citizen. No more weekly check ins, no more phone calls back to Los Angeles, no more peeing in a damn cup. I was no longer a ward of the State of California.
“Well
, let’s go stir up some trouble then,” Rachel wiggled her eye brows in suggestion, as she pulled me away from Walker’s side.
“I heard that
, Rachel, and I’m going to have to say no,” Walker said over the commotion.
“You’re just a fun sucker,” Rachel pretended to pout. She and I had become
great friends since the incident. She really had an incredible caring side to her; offering to help me keep the house up when I still had problems with my arms. I glanced down at my bare arms. I normally kept them hidden under long sleeves or sweaters, but tonight I had them out for the first time in public. The small dark red scars were scattered over my forearms, but they seemed to continue to fade over the weeks. I was lucky that no nerve damage had occurred, and they functioned exactly the same as before the incident. My arms were just ugly to look at now, but I didn’t dare say that around Walker anymore. I got lectured for almost an hour one day, when I felt sorry for myself and started to sulk on how ugly I felt.
Glancing over to the other side of the living room at Aunt Patty’s
, I flashed Walker a smile. Standing over there was the man of my dreams. I can never explain completely why I ran away all those years ago, but I know what brought me back. Walker.
The evening was filled of laughter and plenty of food
, between Grams and Aunt Patty competing with their cooking skills in the kitchen all afternoon. Sure, some of the town still didn’t talk with me, but it didn’t matter. I had this amazing family around me and that was more than I could ever ask for. I was finally content with my life. This small town no longer suffocated me. In reality, I couldn’t get enough of it. Sure, I may never see my name in lights, but that wasn’t everything life was cracked up to be, anyway.
“Can I steal a moment with you real quick?” Walker asked
, as he grabbed my elbow and led me away from the conversation I was having.
“Excuse me,” I said to Rachel and a
crowd of other girls. Walker grabbed my hand and led me out to the front porch. The air was crisp and cool as he led me over to the railing.
“How are you doing tonight
, babe?”
I leaned in and wrapped m
y arms tightly around his torso. “Fantastic. Thanks for everything Walker.”
“Carmen
, I am so proud of you. With everything life has thrown at you, you have always managed to come out on top. The world was yours for the taking, and you grabbed it and ran. There is no one I would rather share the rest of my life with then you,” he said softly.
I blinked back the tears that were fluttering along my lashes.
This man was something else, I tell ya
. As I wiped the tears that were now creeping down my cheeks, Walker dropped down to one knee. I gasped, and covered my mouth with both hands.
“I’ve done the time without you, and I don’t ever want to experience life that way again. I want to be able to come home to you every night and wake up with you in my arms every morning. I want to have babies with you and raise them on our little farm. I want everything with you from now to eternity. Carmen Jean Westin, please do me the honor and be my wife?”
I managed to look down at the little black box he was holding out for me, and my eyes froze. Sitting perfectly in the center of the velvet holder was a beautiful princess cut solitaire. The sparkle on this ring was astounding and the band was encrusted with delicate diamonds. It was the perfect ring from the perfect man.
“Shut up and kiss me,” I yelled
, as I yanked him from his kneeling position and slammed my mouth into his.
“So
, is that a yes?” He mumbled into my lips.
I nodded my head and continued to revel in the moment we shared. Hoots and hollers came muffled from inside the house. I pulled back from his arms to notice the entire party watching from the big bay window. Instantly
, my face turned red and I buried my head into Walker’s chest.
“I will love you for a lifetime
, Mrs. Mason.”
“And I will love you further
than that.”
The End
Coming Winter 2013,
Hot Southern Mess
My mother always said, “You need to act like a lady if you are ever going to be the perfect wife.” Well that would require me to first become ‘lady like’ and then sell my soul to the devil. Down south, women were groomed to be the perfect trophy wives. One must be the total package in order to catch a man that had sort of social ranking at the country club. To my parents and sister’s dismay, being sold off to the highest bidder in society wasn’t the life for me.
Hi
, I’m Molly, and anything but the southern belle type. My hair isn't blonde and I don’t wear dresses. My shoe selection consists of my favorite chucks, and I’m lucky that I shower daily. I bite my nails and play guitar, and my makeup regimen involves of the very basics. I don’t hold any pageant titles, and I’m entirely too awkward at social gatherings.
So, what does one do when her younger sister finds the man of her dreams and gets married? You suck it up and put on that horrible bridesmaid dress, and explain to everyone that you are perfectly content on living alone for the rest of your life. Then, you get the hell out of there.
I just want to play my music and live my life, free of sparkles and crowns. Being twenty-five and not married wasn't the end of the world. In reality, it is just the beginning. I am not going to worry about finding “the one” until it finds me. One afternoon, I walked right into all six-foot-three inch rock star of it, shit.
Hi, my name is Molly and I’m a complete Hot Southern Mess.
About the Author
T.A. Hardenbrook currently resides in Spokane Washington with her husband and two young boys. She has a degree in Early Childhood Education as well as her license in Cosmetology, which she still enjoys on a part-time basis.
Her days include being the family chauffer and referee, all while trying to become the perfect domestic goddess one strives for. Her family of four also includes a very loving American pit bull terrier, a wirehaired dachshund, corn snake, and an American cavy (Which her oldest son shows at ARBA/ACBA events).
Being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2013, life became a struggle and she found learning to adapt was not an easy task. Luckily with the help of daily medication, life is slowly returning back to normal. Having the opportunity to write a novel at this time was a huge boost of confidence in dealing with the disorder, being able to use her hands and type, was therapy for the soul.
Please remember to never let anything stand in front of your dreams.
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