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Authors: Loni Flowers

Taking Chances (28 page)

BOOK: Taking Chances
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Epilogue

 

 

Alex

Taking Roz
’s advice and talking everything out with Clair was the best decision he ever made. After Stu found out she was pregnant, he asked Alex to run the company in Virginia instead. It took some time to get the Pittsburgh business squared away, and Tom, the head foreman in Pittsburgh, was the perfect replacement for the job. It was a win-win for everyone.

“Are you sure everything is there? I don’t want to go over there and have you
tell me you forgot something,” Clair said, eyeing him from the passenger seat of the car.

“Yes, baby, I’m sure. Stu and I worked on moving everything in all day yesterday while you and Roz shopped…Which reminds me,” Alex narrowed his eyes, “I think we have enough baby clothes.”

“Never,” she huffed. “You’ll just have to build me a few more shelves in the closet.” Clair patted him on the arm excitedly, “When can you get started? You know we only have two months to go, right?”

“I know,” Alex laughed, “I’ll work on the shelves this weekend. Where has the time gone? It feels like just yesterday when we were having the ultrasound done.”

Clair burst out laughing, “I will never forget the look on your face that day. It was the funniest thing ever.”

“Yeah, well your reaction wasn’t far from mine,” he said rubbing her belly. “It’ll be a great story to tell someday.”

Alex had to navigate the roads slowly after the previous night’s snowfall. He pulled into the driveway, watching Clair‘s reaction. It had been a few months since she had been out to the jobsite, but he and Stu kept everyone on course. Their completed house sat before them, covered in a thin blanket of snow. Clair’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of it, as she opened the door to get out.

“Oh, no you don’t! You wait right there and let me help you.” He jumped out and carefully edged to her side of the car.
“You don’t need to be walking around in this stuff without some help. Technically, we’re already violating the doctor’s rules by being out in weather like this.”

“Oh, stop worrying so much. You know I’ll be fine.”

“You’re seven months pregnant, Clair. I’m not risking you slipping.” As they walked up the snowy sidewalk toward the house, Alex asked, “So what do you think? Will this do for raising a family?”

They stood on the front porch and Clair reached for his cheek, cupping it with her hand. “I don’t need a big house to raise a family, I only need you.”

Alex smiled, kissing her on the forehead. “Well, why didn’t you tell me that to start with? We could have saved a lot of money,” he teased.

“True, but then I wouldn’t have gotten this beautiful house… See my plan’s already working,” Clair laughed as she opened the front door and walked through the entrance.

Alex leaned against the doorframe and watched her explore the room. She ran her hand across the back of the couch, as if she’d never seen it before; when in fact, they picked out all new furniture a month ago. It got delivered yesterday so they could finally sleep in their new house this weekend. “Oh I see… we’ve been married for three months now and you’re already scheming. I’m going to have to keep my eye on you.”

“Ha!
As if I’m hard to miss right now.” She stopped in front of a full-length decorative mirror that hung on the wall, and rubbed her belly. “Look at me. I’m as big as a cow and I still have two months to go. Soon, I won’t even fit though the door.”

Pregnancy fit her well. She radiated with happiness and infected those around her, making everyone as giddy and excited as she was. Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and patted her belly. Soon, he thought. Soon, he’d be a father. He’d have a family of his own. There would be feeding routines, diaper changes, playtime, recitals, and soccer practice. Every moment would be cherished as a precious gift. He couldn’t wait to start this new part of his life with Clair.

Brushing her hair aside, he whispered in her ear. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Come with me.”

He took her hand and led her up the staircase. Walking her down the hall, he stopped just outside a bedroom door.
“Close your eyes and don’t open them until I say.” She smiled wide and did as he asked. Carefully, he led her into the room, positioning her in the center of the floor before he said, “Okay. Open your eyes.”

When Clair opened them, she gasped, raising her hand to her chest. “Alex! It’s beautiful! How did you?
When?” she stammered, as she spun in a circle to look around the room. She walked over to one of the two rocking chairs and sat down, looking from left to right.

“We went ahead and put the baby stuff up last night. Since you were with Roz, your dad stayed and helped me. It took a while, but we got everything together.” Alex walked to the other chair and sat next to her. “I know the doctor said it was possible to go into labor early, and I wanted to make sure we were ready. I hope everything is how you want it.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and reached for his hand. “It’s abs
olutely perfect. Everything. You matched the bedding and hung the mobiles. Even the pictures on the walls are in the perfect spots. And the chairs,” she arched her brow, “I don’t remember picking out two of these, but I love it.”

“We didn’t. I ordered another one so we can rock Chance and Hope together.”

Clair kissed the back of his hand, “I would have never thought when you asked me to take a chance with you, that I’d have all this. You’re so good to me. I love you.”

“Sometimes the smallest decisions reap the biggest rewards… and you were the best decision I ever made.”

 

 

The End

Turn the page to get a sneak peek of Chapter one of
Loni Flower’s next novel…

 

Painted Memories

I’ve come to realize how much life can change with circumstance. One moment I was a happy sixteen year old girl with a great brother, Jesse, who I adored.

Then Jesse died.

No matter how much I wished it had been me in the accident, wishing will never change what happened. Five years later, my father’s eyes are still filled with hate and regret whenever he looks at me. I haven’t forgotten my mistake, but I’ve accepted it.

My father has not.

He may always see me as a failure, but I’m determined to make a fresh start in a new town where love promises to be more generous than the scorn I've left in my father's eyes. With any luck, maybe some distance will make him see me as his daughter again. Until then I’ll find my own way.

It’s what Jesse would want.
 

Painted Memories
is an original, contemporary romance about love, loss, and recovering from tragedy. Its characters are real. Between humor and heartbreak, it’s funny, touching, and full of redemption.

 

 

 

 

 

Painted Memories

Chapter 1

 

The day seemed to drag on as I looked forward to my three-day weekend. Exhausted from dealing with high-strung kids all day, I walked inside my apartment and dropped my keys on the kitchen table along with my stack of school papers before striding to my bedroom. I changed from my teaching attire, opting for a pair of black running shorts and a light yellow tank top. On a day like today, however, even that seemed like too many clothes. After staying cooped up in the classroom all week, all I really wanted to do was sleep, but I knew if I did, I'd be up the rest of the night. I needed to stretch my legs, wake my body up. A jog around the track behind my apartment complex could do just that. After all, I was living in Fairfield, Georgia for three months now, and not once had I taken advantage of all the amenities my apartment complex had to offer. Even the gym
membership I signed up for the week I moved in had gone to waste. Getting so hung up on trying to make my first teaching year the best; I kept myself shut in since my arrival here. It was time to change that. Live a little. Enjoy myself. God knows, my parents never gave me the chance, and most of the fun I had was with my brother and his crazy friends. Like two peas in a pod, Jesse and I were practically inseparable. “
Don't tell Mom
,” he'd always say. But he was gone now. An accident took him from my life and I've never quite been the same person since he left. I struggled to deal with the loss for a long time, until recently, when I decided to push everything back and try to live my life. On my own, free to make my own choices, good or bad. I was due for a change. 

Jogging, I made my way around the pond. It was beautiful and the layout made it the perfect place for a vigorous workout or a peaceful walk. The concrete track skirted the banks of the water while couples lounged on park benches that were randomly placed around it. Others lay in the grass, enjoying a picnic, or reading a book. It was the preferred place to enjoy
some time outside and I felt like kicking myself for not taking advantage of it sooner.

My apartment complex was off the beaten path, and if I hadn’t gotten lost in the first place, I might have never found Oakdale. Hidden from the main roads, tucked into a wooded area, huge oak trees surrounded the perimeter. It was a large complex, eight buildings total, two floors each. The property manager told me when I inquired about renting an apartment that there were twisted walking trails, which wrapped around one side of the pond, through the woods to the opposite of the pond. I also had access to basketball courts, tennis courts, and two swimming pools, if I preferred other activities. I was lucky there were several available units when I came across it. Oakdale seemed to be
the
place to live around here, but none of it mattered if I didn't allow myself the luxury of using it. I always meant to, but never found the time. I had to start making the time, or else I could end up being a workaholic like my father. After living with him all my life, that was the last thing I wanted to become.

Sweat dripped down the back of my neck and other unmentionable parts of my body as I ran. The hot September made me realize I probably picked the worst time of day to drag myself around the track--late afternoon. I looked across the pond at my starting point and knew there was no way I'd be able to push myself all the way around without collapsing from exhaustion, or worse, heat stroke.

A noise behind me caught my attention and I stepped off the path to avoid forcing the person behind me to slow down.  I jogged between the concrete track and the edge of the water before noticing a man falling into stride beside me. He nodded with a smile and I grinned at him, hearing unknown lyrics streaming from the headphones in his ears. Suddenly, I shifted forward, with only the pond and a park bench in my line of sight. I tried to reach for the bench as I fell, my arms flailing. My body’s momentum propelled me forward and I screamed before being silenced by a mouthful of water.

I struggled, losing my footing every time I tried to stand up.
I've got to get out! I've got to get out! The snakes are going to get me!
were my only thoughts.

Water splashing, I choked on the brackish-brown water as I gasped for breath. I was going to drown or get bitten by a snake while everyone around me watched. The guy that was jogging beside me appeared on the edge of the bank, leaning over with his hand stretched out.

“Stand up,” he said. “It's not that deep.”

After a moment, his words sunk in and I tried to stand. When I looked down at the water, I felt like an idiot, seeing the water only came up to my waist. I took a step toward him and reached for his hand just as something slimy brushed against my leg. With a terrified scream, I leaped forward.

“It's going to bite me! Get me out! Get me out!” I yelled, splashing water everywhere. He pulled me up the embankment and my shoes slipped over the soft, wet dirt. I coughed up pond water as I gasped for a fresh breath in the humid air. He wrapped his arm around my waist and walked me toward an empty park bench only a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sitting down beside me.

“Oh my God! Thank you. If you hadn't helped me, I might have drowned.” I glared at the bystanders, still gawking at me from their park benches and private picnics. “Obviously, no one else was going to help,” I said louder than necessary. They averted their eyes while I stared, encouraging them to mind their own business.

“Well, it's a good thing I decided to come for a run when I got off work, isn't it? My name’s Drew, by the way,” he said, extending his hand.

I shook it, breathing heavily. I didn’t bother to mention that if I hadn’t moved over for him to pass, I wouldn’t have fallen in to begin with. “I'm Lilly.”

“Oh wait... you've got something—” he started to say as he reached his hand toward my hair.

I saw it out of the corner of my eye when he pulled it from between the strands of my hair. It was long and green, and only one word came to mind.
Snake!
I jumped up, a scream trapped in my throat, but slapped my hand over my mouth when he dangled the long piece of grass between his fingers in front of me. I closed my eyes and settled back down on the bench. I knew he must’ve thought I was such a freaking idiot.

“Sorry. I
don't
do snakes. School prank. I've never been the same since.” He hid a grin pretty well, but not well enough that I didn’t catch the corner of his lip turning up slightly before he looked back at me with a straight face.

“Oh, I see. Sounds like an interesting story.”

Jenny Newcomb. Seventh grade. When she slipped the snake in my locker to scare me as a prank, it backfired and bit my hand. She was expelled and it took my classmates two years to stop teasing me about it. My fear of snakes was etched in stone forever.

“Nope, not that interesting.
I can take most anything; but show me a snake, and we're done.”

“Oh! Well, I can assure you I don't have any snakes.” Drew held up his hands, “Tragedy averted.”

He had a warm smile. Deep dimples pierced his cheeks in a way that made you want to smile back immediately when you saw them. His eyes appeared bright green in the sunlight. The landscape around us emphasized that more vibrantly than any other pair of green eyes I had ever seen before. Beads of sweat prickled his brow, while his hair, a dark, sandy-blond, almost brown, lay wet and flat against his head. He wore a thin, white tee shirt, which was now dotted with brown spots, all thanks to my panic-stricken fit in the pond. I didn't dare look at myself. I knew I was hideous and I didn't want to show my embarrassment even more by letting him see my reaction.

“Oh crap, your shirt.” I reached for it, but pulled my hand back before I touched his chest. “I'm really sorry about that. Can I buy you a new one?”

“What? No, of course not. It's nothing the washing machine can't get out. I'm dirty anyway.” He held out his hands to show an array of colored paints sprinkled across his fingers. “I paint for a living, so I've always got something on me.” Turning his wrist over, he glanced at his watch. “Oh crap, I've got to run. I'm expecting an important phone call any minute. I'm sorry, but I’ve got to head back.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again for your help. I really appreciate it. Maybe I'll just stick with the gym from now on.”

He stood up, and his jogging pants were wet where I pressed against him. “I don't know. The gym can be a dangerous place too,” he grinned. “Next time, stay on the track. Those tree roots will leap up and grab you every time. I don't want to have to jump in there next time to get you out.”

I laughed. He wouldn't have to worry about rescuing me again. I'd be sure not to walk that close to the pond again.

“See you around, Lilly,” he said, over his shoulder as he walked away.

Yeah, right. He was going to avoid me like the plague.

 

Standing in front of the full-length mirror behind my bedroom door, I marveled at the mess that peered back at me. I
might have looked better if I had rolled around in the dirt first. Not only were my clothes disgusting, but my hair was matted down, and a darker brown than the lighter shade it was supposed to be. My mascara was smeared, making my blue eyes look like a rabid raccoon. My thin top stuck tightly to my skin, which I'm sure gave Drew more of a show than I realized during our encounter.

I've been here for three months and the first person I have a conversation with has to pull me out of a pond.
Classy, Lilly, real classy.

 

Reading over my lesson plan on the treadmill wasn't half as difficult as it was trying to grade papers. Lesson learned. Obviously, physical coordination wasn't my strong suit, made pretty apparent when I tried walking the track at my apartment a couple days ago. It was the reason I decided to go to the gym rather than risk falling in the pond again. Since today was technically supposed to be a teacher's workday, I already spent some time preparing this week's lessons; but I had to think of an art activity for the kids to work on since we still didn't have an art teacher.

The gym wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. For some reason, I had a preconceived notion that only young, skinny, stuck-up, beautiful women would be here. Right beside the typical, egotistical, drop dead gorgeous men, who believed they were precious gifts from God for the female population. I was wrong. This place seemed quite neutral. People of all shapes and sizes worked out here, which instantly made me feel more comfortable since I wasn't perfect by any means. I could actually envision myself coming more often. There seemed to be plenty of workout classes to choose from, just like the one I could see across the room to the left. It was filled with people in peaceful meditation for a yoga class. Probably something I could benefit from…
A way to clear my mind after a hectic day.

A racquetball game was going on in the room on my right. I could see two people darting back and forth, trying their best to hit a ball as it bounced off the walls... That was one game
I'd skip. The room directly in front of me was enclosed in glass. It was slightly smaller than the others, but held all the weights and equipment. Only two guys shared this room, and it looked as if the young, attractive, blond-haired guy was doing most of the talking. He demonstrated each machine before letting the older man try it out, while he stood by and watched. He obviously worked here, a trainer, I guessed. It didn't matter who he was, he was hot any way you looked at him. There was something about him. I didn't know if it was the wildness of his spiky hair, or maybe the way he carried himself. His chest was slightly puffed out, his broad shoulders back, and he stood up tall and rigid in a confident manner. Maybe working out here wouldn't be so bad if I was able to watch him during it. It was the perfect motivation.

“Scrumptious, isn't he?”

I glanced to my right and saw another woman walking on the treadmill beside me. She was short. Her orange-red hair was pulled up in a messy bun on the top of her head. When she smiled, I could see reddish freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. “Excuse me,” I asked, not sure whom she was referring to.

BOOK: Taking Chances
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