A Tiny Excerpt

It's 2:00 AM and though I already tried to go to bed once, this scene came to me and I knew I had to get it down quick before it left me. Here's a funny little excerpt from the novel I'm working on entitled "Return To Scotland."

Donnie’s eyes grew wide with amazement. “What”, he mouthed at me from behind Mrs. McKenzie’s back.

I rolled my eyes and looked away as a flush crept up my neck.

When the shopkeeper disappeared into the back he whispered, “Did you really piss yourself in here?” He looked genuinely surprised and I was genuinely mortified.

“Leave me alone,” I warned and looked away.

“Och, don’t be embarrassed,” he said making his way over to me. “It’s cute.”

“Oh yeah,” I quipped. “Real cute.” I refused to make eye contact with him as he gripped both of my arms in his strong, sturdy hands.

“It also doubles as a brilliant piece of blackmail, so there’s a bonus.”

“Shut up,” I tried to slap his face, but he dodged the blow with a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” he said, locking a sincere gaze on me. “All of us piss ourselves from time to time. Sometimes it can’t be helped.”

“Stop,” I begged through clinched teeth.

Completely ignoring me, he turned to an older woman wearing a coat to her knees, her nylons drooping well below the hemline, and her hair still in tight curlers. “In’t that right, Ms. McRae?”

“Oh aye,” she warbled, patting her backside. “It’s why I always wear ma’ protection.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Donnie feigned sincerity.

I contorted my face and looked away, biting down hard on my back teeth as I fought to suppress the snort that was about to burst forth. Taking note of my desperation, Donnie wrapped his arm around me and steered me toward the doorway. “This one looks a bit faint. I’m going to take her out for some fresh air.”

And now...a book.

I have been working on three books for the last year or so. One is a science fiction/romance and the other are just plain romance. Surprise! Unless you know me, in which case you're not the least bit surprised.

All of these dating stories from this blog lead up to one thing and I've decided to put them all together in novel form to tell that story. Unfortunately, I can only work when my creativity is inspired and I never know when that's going to happen. I have a part time/full time job, I have four children, three of them 5 and under, and I front a band called The Mending Seed, so with all of this going on, it's not easy to find the time and inspiration to write.

But I'm keeping at it and in the meantime, just for fun, I have decided to share the first 21 pages of one of my books. This is the only sharing I ever intend to do, but I hope you enjoy and I hope it grips you and makes you want to read more.

The following excerpt is only part of chapter one.

CHAPTER ONE

THE PRICE OF LOVE

"So…why did you quit your last job?"

"I was sexually harassed by my boss." I offered without hesitation.

It was true. My last boss, who was a married man, had made several advances toward me, despite my adamant rejection, eventually locking me in the building with him one night and begging me to run away with him.

I noticed the doctor quickly shifting in his seat, his brow furrowing into a scowl as he clicked his pen open and closed against his bottom lip in a rhythmic agitation. I needed this job bad. My marriage was quickly collapsing and I was facing the very real possibility of caring for myself and my young son on my own. I instantly regretted my answer. Why did I have to be so bad at interviewing? Why did I have to be so honest? Of the few decent jobs listed in the newspaper ads, this one looked the most legitimate and stable. I sighed and sat forward in my seat, my legs shaking nervously.

"I…" I started in, desperately. "I'm a hard worker. I'm a quick learner. I promise you won't be sorry if you hire me."

The doctor glanced up briefly and looked me up and down, gritting his teeth, then buried himself back in my resume, heaving occasional sighs, now tapping his pen furiously on the desk.

I could feel my face burning. "That sounded so desperate and stupid", I thought. "Why did I say that?" I could feel my face burning, my hands sweating with cold, my bottom lip stinging from the nervous biting.

"Well, I have more people to interview, so I'll get back to you." The doctor wouldn't even look at me. I knew he wouldn't hire me. I wasn't going to get the job. I was sure of it. My heart instantly sank into my stomach and I felt suddenly light-headed and fuzzy. My desperation was getting the best of me.

I sheepishly rose to my feet and bid my farewell, exiting the office as quickly as my weak knees would allow.

Later that afternoon I received a phone call. The job was mine.

*************************************

As promised, I learned quickly and worked furiously, literally running around the office all day, day after day, completing enough work for two.

"Wow!" I heard the doctor laughing, exasperated in the hallway. He was a tall, lean man, with blond hair and kind, blue eyes, sophisticated and intelligent with a naughty sense of humor.

I immediately halted and spun around, searching the doctor's expression.

"You're literally running! I've never seen anyone work as hard as you. Do you need a break or anything?" He looked me up and down in disbelief.

"I'm fine." I chirped back. "There's just a lot to do and I'm trying to stay on top of it."

"Oh, I think you're more than staying on top of it." The doctor chuckled again. "Don't run yourself ragged." His expression turned to one of genuine concern.

I smiled. "Don't worry. I won't." I then proceeded to turn and resume running down the hall to the stack of urgent billing paperwork awaiting my attention.

The weeks continued on like this. I worked furiously each day. And each day passed quickly.

And my marriage continued to crumble.

*********************************

"I'm getting divorced." I confided in my coworker, Linda, one evening at closing.

"No you're not." She chuckled in response. "Don't tease me."

I was known to be a tease, but this was no joke. "I'm not kidding." I replied, a serious tone to my voice.

"Why? What's going on?"

I heaved a big sigh. "There's just a lot of stuff going on. It's been bad for a long time. I can't take it anymore. We separated before I took this job and then we got back together and it's just getting worse. Besides, he told me last night that he can't stand me and he wants a divorce."

"Oh my gosh. That's terrible. You poor thing." She rubbed my arm in an attempt to comfort me.

"Who's getting divorced?" The doctor's voice could be heard in the hall, his steps quickly approaching the front office area.

"She is!" Linda practically shouted, pointing an accusing finger in my direction.

"Are you serious?" The doctor searched my eyes with a look of disbelief.

I swore I noticed a hint of happiness, but I quickly shook off the supposed delusion.

"Yeah." I stared at the ground sheepishly. "Things have been bad for a while. It was inevitable." I clinched my teeth to hold back the tears. Hearing the words aloud made it all so real and though I wanted it just as much as my soon-to-be-ex, the anxiety was playing on my emotions, flickering at the tear switch.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

He didn't sound sorry at all.

The insincerity in his tone made my heart flutter. I had been treated so poorly by my husband that a little bit of kindness was all it took to win me over.

********************************

"Are you gonna' be ok?" The doctor spoke in a soft, concerned tone as he slowly sat down in his seat, eyes focused on me, his usual look of concern. He always looked at me this way while asking me about my divorce.

I stopped writing and glanced up at him from the extra desk he had set up in his office. "Yeah. I'm fine." I smiled. "Thanks for asking." I looked back down at my work then and tried to find my place, but I could feel his eyes on me still, making it difficult to concentrate.

"You always act like you're fine." The doctor hesitated. I could see from my peripheral vision that he was leaning in closer from across his desk, but I suddenly felt nervous, so I didn't dare look up at him. His tone softened even more. "But I've been through a divorce. I know how difficult it is. And you have a kid on top of it all."

I reflexively clenched my teeth. My heart began to burn and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I slowed my breathing, trying to maintain control of my emotions. "Thanks." I responded quickly without looking up. "I'm really fine, though." I glanced over at him again with a quick smile in an attempt to reassure him of my statement. But, my emotions caught up and my eyes misted over. I looked back at my work quick, attempting to engross myself in hopes that he'd leave the subject alone and get back to work himself.

I heard the doctor draw in a large breath before heaving a long, drawn out sigh. Just then he abruptly rose from his desk and began to exit the room. With my back turned to him, I closed my eyes and chewed on my bottom lip. I replayed the conversation over a couple of times in my head, the doctor's gentle eyes full of concern burned into my memory.

"Are you moving in with your parents?"

I jumped and gasped.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He half whispered, half laughed.

I breathed a calming breath and turned around in my desk to face him. "It's ok. I just didn't realize you were still standing there." I laughed a nervous laugh and then remembering the question he had just asked me, responded, "Yeah. I'm…I'm trying to. It'll be fine. I'm fine." I waved him off with my hand and quickly turned back around to my work.

After a few-second pause, I finally heard the doctor's footsteps walking toward the front office. I found my place again and started back to work, listening as the doctor called back another patient and introduced himself as he led her to a room.

"I’ll be right back”, I heard him explain. “Just have a seat."

Then suddenly his footsteps moved quickly toward me. I stopped and looked up at the wall in front of me, listening to his movement, trying to decipher what he was doing. Suddenly the door behind me shut. I whipped around just as the doctor blew through the office and sat down at the edge of the extra chair sitting next to me.

"What did you mean when you said you were trying to move into your parents' house?" He rested his forearms on his legs, his fingers interlocked, searching my eyes intently.

My eyes searched his in return. "What are you doing?" I asked, completely puzzled. "You have patients to see. I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about my patients. I'm worried about you."

I was stunned. My jaw dropped slightly and I just stared blankly. I didn't know what to say. He reached his hand over and placed it on my knee. A warm, tingling rush of excitement ran through me. I could feel my heart racing now, my breathing becoming labored.

"Do you need somewhere to go?" He pressed.

I shook my head slightly. "I'm…I appreciate your concern. I really do, but…" I heaved a sigh and sat up straight, clearing my throat. "My parents will let me move back in with them…eventually. I just…they're upset right now. They didn't want me to marry this guy in the first place and…I think my mom thinks this is teaching me a lesson to make things difficult for me - even though I'm already having a difficult time."

"That's terrible!" The doctor nearly shouted, stiffening in his seat. "Where's your ex?"

"Still at home."

"With you?"

"Yeah." I hung my head, embarrassed.

"Why doesn't he leave?"

I shrugged and shook my head. "I don't know. It's all really frustrating. He wants a divorce just as much as I do, but he refuses to leave and he knows my parents won't take me in yet. He won't even sleep on the couch."

The doctor half whispered a curse word in an angry tone - directed at my soon-to-be ex. "Sorry", he immediately followed. "So he makes you sleep on the couch?"

I pulled a face and looked away. I knew what I was about to tell him would sound completely ridiculous. "Actually we both sleep in the same bed." I saw his eyes widen. "I…we live in a little two-story townhouse and …both rooms are upstairs and he won't ever get up with the baby and if I'm downstairs on the couch, I won't hear my son very well, so we just both sleep in the same bed and…"

I hesitated when his brow furrowed.

"So, are you thinking of not getting divorced then?"

"No!" My expression turned to horror. "We're definitely divorcing."

I could see the doctor's brow release, his eyes regaining their gentle expression. Suddenly his shoulders slumped and he released what sounded like a sigh of relief. After a brief moment of silence, he ran his fingers through his hair and then stretched with a groan. "I'm sorry. I'm being way too nosy here." He looked away, seemingly embarrassed now. "I better go see my patients before they start complaining about the wait."

I let him go with a weak smile, but stared blankly long after he left, wondering, “Am I imagining things or is he taking a lot of interest in my personal life?”

*********************************

Several weeks after my divorce, I found myself closing up the office alone. Linda was out sick that day.

The office was so quiet I could literally hear buzzing in my ears.

And the romantic tension was building.

I knew he was back in his office, making phone calls and finishing up business before he left for the evening. He had been a listening ear, a sensitive, caring shoulder to cry on throughout the whole awful ordeal. And I had fallen for him.

I could hear his office door shutting and locking; his footsteps coming down the hall. My heart began to pound; my stomach to flutter; my hands sweating. I glanced about anxiously. "Where was I?" I thought. The sound of him approaching made me forget myself. Just then I spotted a patient folder that needed filing. I grabbed it quickly and made my way across the small front office space to the wall of files.

I could hear him behind me, drumming his fingers on the high counter space at the patient check out. I wished I had more folders in hand to file. I was too overcome with emotion to turn around and face him.

"Another busy day, huh?" The doctor attempted to make conversation.

"Yeah", I sighed.

Dead silence.

I turned to face him and our eyes met and quickly darted away from each other.

"So…are you doing anything fun tonight?" He continued in his efforts.

"Yeah. I'm seeing a movie." I replied.

"Oh!" His expression betrayed his feelings. "You have a date?"

"No", I answered, trying not to smirk.

"Oh", he sighed in relief. "So…you're going alone?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, reached for another folder and turned my back to him to file it. I tried to appear calm, though my heart was pounding out of my chest and my entire body quivering as a result of it. "Yeah. I guess so. I have nobody to go with, so…"

"What movie are you seeing?" He questioned further.

I named the movie. It was a comedy. His eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah. I've been wanting to see that movie too!" He practically shouted, apparently unable to contain his excitement.

"Yeah?" I unnecessarily questioned.

"Yeah…" He hesitated, picking up the pen on the counter and tapping it just as he had during my dreadful interview months before.

Time seemingly froze in anticipation. I held my breath and stared intently at the pen, bobbing up and down, up and down, up and... It stopped abruptly then and dropped to the counter. Reflexively, I drew in a deep breath and snapped out of my trance. My eyes slowly walked up his arm, and then his shoulder, his neck, and then his face to his eyes. He looked up and locked eyes with me then.

"We should go together." He finally broke the silence.

"Really?" I was taken aback. This felt so surreal.

"If you want to. I'm up for it." He shrugged and looked at the ground sheepishly.

"Sure. Yeah. Sounds fun." I chirped in response.

He urged me to grab my bag and leave the office as it was. "What time is the movie playing?" He asked.

I didn't even know. I hadn't looked it up. My face burned in embarrassment as I explained this to him. He shrugged. "Well, why don't we grab dinner and then go check it out at the theater? I'm sure we'll catch a showing somewhere."

After calling my parents to let them know of my plans and make sure they were okay to watch my son, I followed the doctor to his car, throwing mine a sideways glance of guilt. What I was about to do felt so wrong and yet so exciting at the same time. I had dreamed of this moment the past few weeks. The doctor opened my door for me and I slid in, looking around at the luxury encircling me. My heart beat began to quicken as the realization that this was really happening set in.

I couldn't even look at him as he sat down in the driver's seat and started the car. But suddenly his eyes were on me, so I glanced over and released a nervous chuckle.

"I know a great pizza place." He started in.

I nodded quickly and looked away. "Sounds good."

"It's a nice one." He unnecessarily proceeded to persuade.

"Okay," I chuckled nervously, finally making eye contact with him. Our eyes locked for a moment and I reflexively held my breath in anticipation. Then, smiling weakly, I looked away quick and released my breath into a sigh.

"Are you okay?" The doctor reached over and lightly touched my arm.

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's just…" I hesitated and looked into his eyes again. I could see the worry.

He slowly pulled his hand away and studied my eyes. "Is something wrong?"

I nervously chuckled again. "No…" Then, after a brief hesitation, I changed my answer, "Maybe." I laughed a little harder this time and glanced over at him. His look of worry deepened. "No, I mean….this is kind of funny, isn't it?" I was hoping he would agree; anything to erase the awkwardness I felt in that moment.

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I'm so much older than you."

"I don't care about that." I quickly corrected his theory. "It's just because you're my boss and I call you doctor all day long and now…." I drew in a quick breath and held it, looking to him for help.

"You know you don't have to call me doctor now, right?" His expression softened.

I shot him a questioning look.

"I mean…outside of the office. We should probably keep things professional during working hours, but when it's just you and I, you can call me Stephen."

I gazed into his eyes and smiled warmly. "Ok…Stephen." I loved hearing myself say his name. I loved that I could finally call him by it.

******************************

After an evening of pizza and a movie that I could barely concentrate on as I sat close to him in the dark theater, my mind racing with thoughts of how far this would go and if I would ever get to spend time with him like this again, we slowly walked to his car in the cool night air.

My heart began to sink as our time together was seemingly coming to an end. The evening had passed too quickly. Suddenly I felt his warm hand envelope mine. I pursed my lips and looked down at my hand in his, my heart beat quickening, and then took hold of his.

"Thank you for letting me come along tonight." Stephen gently squeezed my hand.

I released the breath I was holding in a nervous laugh. "Thank you. You paid for everything."

"It was my pleasure." He gently squeezed again.

As he opened the car door for me, he moved in close, his body touching against mine. I could feel the warmth emanating from him.

"Thank you." I said softly, looking into his eyes. I sat down and drew in another breath, releasing it into a louder sigh as I waited for him to make his way around the car and enter the driver's seat.

"Do you need to get home or….?" The question floated above me and I sat there, my mind racing, wondering what would come next if I said yes. I was living with my parents since my divorce, trying to get my life together, my toddler son to care for. I knew they wouldn't approve if I stayed out any later. But then I reminded myself that I was 22 years old and should be able to make my own decisions.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"Well, I could show you my place. I live on a mountain overlooking the city. It's got a great view. I thought maybe we could sit out on the back patio and listen to some music and just talk."

It sounded amazing. "Sure", I responded perhaps a little too excitedly.

He grinned and turned the engine over, pressing the gas pedal and letting it roar for a second. I laughed and rolled my eyes. I knew Stephen was nearly twenty years older than me, but he hid his age well in his looks and fun-loving personality.

The conversation flowed easily as we cruised to a remote location. We soon discovered we shared a passion for music and movies.

As Stephen suddenly slowed the speed of his car, I turned my gaze from him to the large gates before us. My jaw dropped. "Wow," I mouthed.

"I'm untouchable", he joked and we both laughed aloud. For the first time that night, I felt completely relaxed and natural with him. Though he carried a prestigious title and lived a more than comfortable life, there was a completely down-to-earth nature about Stephen. I liked him even more.

The butterflies began to form in my stomach as Stephen took my hand and helped me from his car. My eyes darted about, taking in the sight of the very large red brick home before me. I couldn't help but worry that perhaps I was out of my league. "I'm probably just a fling" I thought to myself. "I'd never live up to the expectations of a guy who has so much."

Stephen pulled me in closer, gently placing his arm around my shoulders as we entered the circular entryway with its mosaic tiled pattern on the floor and its ceiling reaching clear to the second story. "This is amazing", I stated in a tone of both awe and surprise.

"Can I get you something to drink? Soda?" Stephen offered, ignoring my remark.

"Sure. Thanks."

He took my hand again and led me all the way through to the back of the house. I tried not to stare at the beautiful paintings and expensive furniture. He opened the French doors to the spacious veranda and offered up a cushiony reclining pool chair, then disappeared to grab us some drinks.

I laid my head back and closed my eyes, trying to imagine a life like this. I couldn't even fathom it.

"Ok, I brought you Coke. I hope that's okay." Stephen returned; two drinks in hand.

"Coke is good. Thanks."

We continued our conversation about movies for a while longer until eventually we reached a lull. I drew in a deep breath and released a relaxing sigh. "Ahh....this is the life." I teased with a grin.

Stephen looked over at me, smiling contentedly, and offered his hand out to me. I smiled back and placed my hand in his, my heart burning as he gently squeezed. Suddenly the thought of living in this large house, watching this view out the back all alone entered my mind and I looked over at Stephen again, studying his profile, wondering if he ever felt lonely.

"I hope you'll let me see you again." Stephen looked over at me then, studying my eyes.

"Well, I work for you." I began to joke.

Stephen let out a half laugh. "No, I mean outside of work."

I held my composure, though my heart was pounding wildly now. "I would love that."

Our eyes locked together for a moment.

Stephen began gently caressing my forearm as he spoke. "I'm so glad I hired you."

"Me too." I cooed.

"I almost didn't." He offered up as an afterthought.

My eyebrows shot up in complete shock. "Really?" I wasn't so sure I wanted to know why.

"Well, you said something in the interview that worried me." He looked away then and laid his head back. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and internally braced myself. "Right when you said you left your last job because you were sexually harassed by your boss, a red flag shot right up and I thought you were one of those types that went about falsely accusing men of things just to get money out of them or something."

"Oh my gosh." I groaned, placing my free hand over my eyes. "I'm so embarrassed. I give terrible interviews."

Stephen laughed harder and squeezed my hand tighter. "It's okay. The important thing is I hired you and…." He hesitated and then reached his other hand over, holding my hand in both of his now and stared intently into my eyes. "Now we're together and I'm having the best evening I've had in a long time."

My look of horror melted into a slightly embarrassed smile. I groaned and laid my head back, closing my eyes tight.

"Don't be embarrassed. It's okay." Stephen chuckled softly. "I'm so glad I hired you. It's the best thing I've ever done."

I appreciated the compliment and it definitely softened the blow, but then I had to wonder, "Why did you hire me, then?"

I noticed Stephen's sudden nervousness, which piqued my curiosity even more. Raising an eyebrow, I pressed further. "Well…?"

Stephen hung his head and sighed in mock defeat. "I thought you were…really beautiful", he muttered under his breath.

My jaw dropped and I stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Then, jumping to my feet, hands on hips, I shouted, "WHAT?! Are you serious?"

"Are you mad?" Stephen contorted his face as if to brace himself for a smack.

I had to think about that for a moment. "I don't know." I threw my hands up dramatically and paced about in front of him. "I don't know what to think. I don't know if I should be flattered or even more embarrassed!"

"Don't be embarrassed. You are beautiful. You have to admit it." Stephen chuckled nervously.

"Oh my gosh. Okay, stop. This is….really embarrassing now. I hope I'm at least a good worker and you're not just keeping me around and complimenting me because you think I'm pretty."

“Beautiful”, he corrected.

I heaved a sigh and rolled my eyes.

"I'm not. I promise." Stephen leaped up then and hesitantly approached me. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else." He took my hand and began to lead me back into the house. "Why don't you play something for me on the piano?" I knew he was just trying to distract me. I heaved another sigh and followed.

He seated me at his grand piano and took a seat next to me on the bench. I felt his arm rub against mine and a warm, tingling sensation flooded my body. I could feel the heat rising inside me. I nervously reached out and fiddled with the keys.

"Play something." Stephen begged.

Reluctantly I began to play a little tune I had made up. I stopped abruptly after a minute, worrying I might bore him.

"Why did you stop?" Stephen smiled and nudged me. "Come on. Keep going."

"You don't wanna' hear me play all night." I whined.

He seemed a bit distracted. Suddenly jumping to his feet, he held a hand out as if to stop me. "Stay right there. I need to grab something quick."

I contorted my face in suspicion. "Okaaay," I drawled and turned back to fiddle around on the keys as he disappeared around the corner.

He returned just as quickly as he had left carrying a large book in his hands. Intrigued, I stopped playing and arose from my seat. "What's that?" I asked, approaching the large brown leather sofa he stood next to.

Stephen jumped backwards into the air and landed with a thud on the overstuffed cushions. I laughed as I stood there gazing upon his boyish manner. This was a side of him I had never seen; never imagined. Smacking the cushion next to him playfully he said, "Seat yourself right here." I sat down gently and, with some effort, managed to scoot my body all the way back into the cushions until I was level with him.

"You're supposed to jump." He teased.

"Definitely next time." I teased back.

He proceeded to open a large atlas then. Thumbing through the pages he asked, "Now, you told me you lived in other countries when you were younger, right?"

"Yeaaah…" I drawled, curious as to where this was leading.

"Show me on here." Stephen placed the atlas in my lap.

I scoffed and furrowed my brow in confusion. "You don't need me to point out countries on here. You know where they are."

"I can't remember." He replied.

"You can't remember?" I laughed. "We just talked about it earlier tonight. Weren't you listening? Or were you so overcome by my beauty?" I teased.

Suddenly his smile vanished, a look of intense desire in his eyes. He reached his hand up and caressed my cheek. "Definitely that," he murmured softly. My cheek burned where he touched it. I could feel my body temperature spike and my breathing became panting. Everything was a blur as he gently pressed his lips against mine and began to kiss me.

I lifted my hands and began to caress his face in return. His lips pressed against mine with more passion and he moaned softly. My heart felt like it back flipped. I had kissed a man before. I had even been married to one. But I couldn't recall ever being kissed with so much passion. He reached his hand down and threw the Atlas from off my lap and then pressed his body against mine, pushing me deeper into the sofa cushions.

My mind began to race. All I could think was, "Is this really happening?"

After a few minutes, I pulled away, my breathing heavy. "Stephen, I should…."

He interrupted by pressing his lips against mine again and kissing me just as passionately as before. "Mmmm. I love kissing you," he murmured softly and then continued, pulling his body further upon mine.

I lost myself in his kiss for a few minutes longer and then regained my senses. I pulled my mouth away from his and spoke his name to get his attention.

"Mm mm," he protested.

"Stephen", I spoke louder, pushing against his chest with my hands.

"Please, not yet." He begged and leaned in again.

I rolled out from under him to escape and hit the floor with a loud thud.

Stephen immediately leaped to his feet. "Are you okay" He shouted and reached his hand out to me, a look of horror on his face. "What happened?"

I sat up and rolled onto my hands, then started giggling and fell back again. Stephen relaxed then and began laughing too.

When my giggling fit subsided, I allowed him to pull me up. "I should go. I'm really enjoying this, but…"

"Then don't go. You don’t have to go."

"Stephen." I looked at him helplessly, my willpower being challenged. "I can't stay."

He closed his eyes, pursed his lips and released a frustrated sigh. "Okay. I get it. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I panted. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let it get that far."

"No, it's not your fault." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Actually, on second thought, it is. If you weren't such a good kisser…" He joked and chuckled slightly.

He reached out his arms to embrace me, but I held my hand up and backed away abruptly. "Not until I'm back home." I warned.

"Man! You're killing me." He whined.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to. I just….I know what will happen if I get too close to you right now."

"Really?" His eyes lit up.

"Stephen!" I shot him an exasperated look. "Help me out here. Let's go. I need to go home now."

*******************************

The next morning, as I entered the parking lot of the medical office building and spotted Stephen's car, my heart began pounding wildly. I tried to maintain composure, but I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. I had been running the prior evening's events through my head over and over since he had left me standing on my doorstep. I wondered if he still felt the same. "Maybe he's over me now." I thought to myself. A sick feeling rolled around in my stomach.

I wasn't sure what I wanted. I knew I had feelings for him and enjoyed his company, but I also knew that he was quite a bit older than me and I feared he lived in a world I wouldn't fit into.

As I opened the door to his office, I hesitated, closed my eyes, drew in a deep, cleansing breath and tried to calm myself. I glanced about the empty waiting room, glanced over at the receiving counter, and then shut the door behind me and purposefully strode to the front desk. I could hear Stephen shuffling papers around in his office. Linda hadn't arrived yet. I checked the schedule quick. Patients weren't due to arrive for another half hour.

Suddenly the sounds coming from Stephen's office ceased. The office fell completely silent. I froze, not knowing what to do. I strained my ears to hear if he was approaching. Just then I heard his footsteps. I jumped, my eyes darting about, looking for something to do. At the last second I saw a patient file that needed to be filed away. I grabbed it just as he turned the corner.

"Hi!" I shouted nervously.

"Hey!" He shouted back, also sounding a bit nervous.

I very coolly asked him how he was doing and he responded very curtly, "Fine."

My heart sank. Judging by his manner, he was over me and wishing last night had never happened. I wished I felt the same, but the truth was I didn't.

I noticed Stephen nervously looking about, as if looking for someone.

"Patients aren't due in for about another twenty minutes or so," I responded.

"Is Linda in yet?" He half whispered.

"No”, I half whispered back.

He relaxed then and sighed, "Oh good."

I gave him a puzzled look. "Why?" I asked.

"Can I hug you?" He asked; a look of desire on his face.

I turned away quickly in an attempt to hide my beet-red face.

"What?" He chuckled nervously.

"You wanna' hug me?" I laughed slightly, still puzzled.

"Come here." He whispered loudly. I turned to face him again and he motioned for me to follow him. As I turned the corner I saw him walking quickly down the hall toward his office. I glanced at the front office door and then followed. I was intrigued. Suddenly he turned the corner into the supply room. I slowed my pace a bit, wondering what he was planning.

Just as I rounded the corner, he grabbed me in an amorous embrace. "I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too" I replied breathlessly.

"I couldn't sleep last night. I just laid awake thinking of you all night long." He pulled away slightly and gazed into my eyes. Then he leaned in and kissed me gently, and again, a little more forcefully.

When we pulled away to catch our breath, he held my head against his chest and said, "I wish you could have stayed. It was so hard to let you go last night."

I felt a tingling, exciting feeling rush through my body. I didn't quite know how to respond, so I squeezed my arms tighter around him.

Just then the front door to the office squeaked as it opened. Linda had most likely arrived. Stephen cupped my face in his hands and gazed into my eyes again, a look of strong desire in his. "I'll be thinking about you all day." He leaned in and gently kissed me again.

"Hello?" Linda's voice called out. "Doctor? Are you back here?" Her footsteps quickly approached the supply room.

Stephen straightened up and cleared his throat, then stepped out into the hall. "Good morning, Linda. How are you?"

"Good." She replied, following him into his office. "I don't see Carina here yet, but…" She stopped mid sentence as she passed the supply room and caught my image in her peripheral vision.

Her eyes darted back over to Stephen and then back at me with suspicion. "Oh. Hi, Carina. I didn't know you were here already."

Her eyes examined me up and down. I looked over at Stephen who gave me an apologetic look and then disappeared into his office.

"Yeah, I just arrived myself," I responded and then scooted past her and headed to the front office hoping she hadn’t caught on to the newly planted seed of romance sprouting right beneath her nose.

As the day wore on Stephen looked for any opportunity to smile at me, wink at me, or even grab me in an embrace in the back supply room or his office in between patients. A couple of hours before the office closed for the day, I found myself working on the billing at the extra desk in his office. Every time he entered the room, he would gently run his fingers across my back and remind me how much he wanted to be alone with me again.

It was 4:00 finally. One hour before closing. Stephen entered his office again, shut the door and locked it. I sat up in my seat and craned my neck to look at him.

"Did you just lock the door?" I asked.

"I did", he whispered. "I have to kiss you again. I can't stand it."

I raised my eyebrows in shock and laughed. He rushed over to me then, held out his hands for mine, pulled me up from my seat and pressed his lips firmly against mine with urgency. "I have to see you tonight."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Stephen", I moaned. "I can't. Not tonight."

"Why?" He pulled back and studied my eyes questioningly.

"I have a son. Remember?" I bit my lower lip and looked away. "I have to go spend time with him tonight. I can't be gone two nights in a row."

He heaved a frustrated sigh and pulled me in closer. "I understand", he said, but his tone wasn't very convincing. "What about this weekend?"

"Yeah. I can do that." My eyes met his again and I tried to tell him through my expression that I was looking forward to more time with him, as well.

*******************************

Our secret back office/back supply room meetings continued on through the work week and our after hours dating continued on for the next few months. I tried to keep it all balanced - my time with my son and my time with Stephen. A couple of times Stephen invited my son along on our dates, but I really tried to keep those at a bare minimum, as my relationship was not so clearly defined to me and I didn't want to drag my poor toddler into it.

In the meantime, my parents, who still felt very protective of me, took notice that I was spending half of my time with my employer.

“So, you seem to be spending a lot of time with this doctor you work for.” My father asked out of the blue one night. The rustling sound the newspaper made as he closed it startled me from my daydream.

“Oh.” I responded breathlessly. I could feel my face burning and I silently wished for him to pick his paper back up and continue reading. “Yeah, we’re kind of dating.”

Both of my parents raised a disapproving eyebrow at each other, then looked back at me, their eyes boring into me as the questions continued to flow.

“What are his intentions?” My father asked in a stern voice.

“I don’t know, dad.” I replied. I knew they were aware that Stephen was much older than me and didn’t share our family’s religious beliefs. “He’s really good to me and he helped me through my divorce and I enjoy being with him.”

I caught my parents’ look of disgust and quickly took a bite of my dinner to quiet my tongue.

My mother took over then. “Does he think he’s going to marry you or is he just getting what he wants off a young girl?”

I threw her a hateful glare and rose abruptly from the table. “I’m done.”

“You get back here.” My mother snarled at me as I brushed past her with my dishes and began to clean them in the sink. “We’re your parents and the grandparents of your son. We have the right to know who you’re dating.”

I set my dish down hard in the sink, my temper flaring. “Well you don’t have the right to imply that he’s trying to take advantage of me. You don’t even know him.”

“Well, why don’t you bring him over here so we can get to know him?” My father interjected.

I maintained my position in the kitchen, eyeing them both suspiciously. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

“You’ll have to think about it?” My mother chortled in apparent disgust.

“I’m not bringing him over here if you’re going to treat him like he’s a creep.” I stated, my arms folded across my chest.

“Oh grow up!” My mother snarled again. “Why don’t you start acting like a mature adult and bring your dates over here to meet your own family?”

With that, I grabbed my son and stormed off up the stairs to the room I shared with him.

I spent the evening in my room, fighting back tears and trying to maintain a cheerful countenance as I read my little boy stories and played toys with him on the floor to the tune of my parents arguing in the kitchen.

A while later I heard a faint knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“It’s your father.”

I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh, then invited him in. I kept my eyes to the floor as he entered the room, my face flushing again with anger.

“Look”, he started in, almost in a whisper. “Your mother and I are just concerned.”

“About what?” I shot him a glare.

“Well, you’re a young woman…”

“I’m an adult.” I interrupted in disgust. “I’m 22. That’s considered an adult now.”

“Ok, fine.” He agreed somewhat reluctantly. “But this guy you’re working for is much older than you and doesn’t share the same religious beliefs and we just don’t want to see you get involved in another bad situation.”

I glared at him in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He responded coolly.

“What makes you think this is a bad situation?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. “What makes you think I’m not capable of figuring things out on my own?” I paused again and continued staring. “What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?”

He searched my eyes, his arms folded across his chest. The silent tension continued to build until I could almost scream. I thought about sharing the recent experience of asking Stephen to take me home when things got a little heated at his house as evidence for my case then quickly decided against it, worrying that this would only get twisted into evidence for my father’s case against Stephen.

“Nobody’s saying any of that. Now you’re just putting words in our mouths.” He seemed pleased with his response and stiffened up, awaiting my reply.

“Mom is.” I responded in a biting tone.

“Oh, she is not either.” He heaved a weary sigh.

I threw my hands up in surrender. “Whatever, dad. I’ll talk to him about it and see if he wants to come over sometime.”

“Good.” My father left the room then and I shook my head in frustration.

I lay awake that night wondering how to approach Stephen about the situation with my parents. I knew them all too well. I feared for Stephen and the supposed love he had for me as I envisioned the trap my parents were preparing, disguised as a friendly dinner.

**************************************

Love On The Streets

I took the same route every day. I lived in a small apartment, drove an economical, compact car, and worked a secretary job for a software company; only twenty minutes' drive on the freeway, which was situated a few blocks up the street from me.

One Monday morning I pulled out of my complex parking lot onto the busy street and groaned at the pile-up of cars. Road construction. The sign said delays should be expected for the next two weeks. "Great", I grumbled aloud. Heaving a frustrated sigh, I flipped on the radio, searching for something interesting to listen to as I passed the time.

As the three lanes of traffic slowly crawled along at a snail's pace, I began to glance about at other people in their vehicles. I always did amuse myself with people watching and though it's not really an advisable activity while driving, I decided that anything under 5 miles per hour should not be considered driving.

Suddenly I caught sight of him. He was a boyishly handsome guy. Short black hair, olive complexion, hazel eyes. He was driving a nice car. I had no idea the make or model, but it was black and sporty. I laid my head back on the headrest of my seat and looked his car over, admiring its sleek, muscular build. Heaving a dreamy sigh, I continued looking it over until I realized he was looking my direction. I gasped and glanced up at him in horror. He flashed me a stark white grin. I responded with a weak smile and looked away quick, suddenly feeling unworthy to even look in his general direction.

My heart began to pound as I wondered if he was still staring at me. I couldn't bring myself to look. Traffic began to crawl along now and I breathed a sigh of relief as I released my foot from the brake pedal and coasted along, resisting the urge to glance to my left.

But, just as quickly as we began to roll along, we all suddenly halted to a dead stand still once again. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see the black, shiny car pulling up along my left again. I stared straight ahead, biting on my lip, feeling completely humiliated for being caught ogling over a much nicer can than my own.

Suddenly an air of confidence rushed over me and I flipped my hair back and raised my head, reminding myself that the man next to me was a complete stranger, I'd most likely never see him again, and I had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. In the moment, I jerked my head to the left and glanced in his direction quickly. He was staring right at me. It was like he was waiting for me to look. I froze. Our eyes locked for a few seconds. We just sat there staring, expressionless, as though we were now engaged in a staring contest.

I couldn't take the tension anymore. My face broke into an amused smile. He smiled too then and I could tell he was chuckling. Shaking my head and laughing now too, I turned away from him again and traffic moved on.

Tuesday morning, I pulled out onto the main road. There were slightly fewer cars, so traffic moved along at a slow, but steady pace. "Good," I said aloud. "Maybe some people decided to leave earlier. Thank goodness." I flipped on the radio again and coasted along, enjoying the music. Suddenly the car in front of me hit the brakes. I glanced about quick and realized the morning wasn't going to start out so smooth after all. As I sat periodically heaving the usual frustrated sighs, I caught site of something moving about furiously in my right peripheral vision. I glanced over and there he was - the man in the black, sporty car, waving his arm to get my attention. My jaw dropped in surprise. He responded by throwing his head back and laughing. But just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared with the commencement of movement in his lane.

Wednesday morning the number of cars on the main road outside of my complex was even more sparse than the day before. I pulled out into a lane and coasted along with a smile on my face. One stoplight before the freeway, I caught a red light. "No big deal," I thought. "I'll take the red light over heavy traffic any day." I flipped through the radio stations, looking for a good "morning commute" tune, then sat back in my seat and gazed around at the other cars. Just as I noticed the lane to my left was empty, the color black filled the space. "NO WAY!" I exclaimed aloud. Sure enough. It was him. Our eyes met and I stared in disbelief, my jaw gaping open. He shrugged his shoulders and laughed, then rolled his passenger window down.

I panicked as I watched the window continue its descent, then gazed up at the man in wonder. He motioned for me to roll my window down. I froze for a second, wondering if this was a good idea. We were still at a red, but it was only a matter of seconds before it would turn. I decided to fulfill his request and rolled my window down.

"Hey!" He shouted.

"Hi!" I shouted back, half laughing.

"Are you following me?" He teased.

"Ummm...no. I believe I was here first, actually." I teased back.

"Do you work out in Phoenix?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

"Have a great day!" He called out and his car suddenly roared away.

"Wha...?" I checked the light. It was green. The car behind me honked. "I'm going. I'm going." I responded and stepped on the gas.

Thursday morning I saw him drive past me in the next lane over, glancing over at me and waving with a big smile on his face. I shook my head and laughed as I waved back.

Friday morning was overcast. I rolled my windows down and breathed in the air as I drove along, a look of contentment plastered across my face. I love overcast days. And it was a Friday. A bonus, as far as I'm concerned.

As I coasted along, I took note of my gas gauge. I was nearly empty. I quickly assessed the situation and realized I may not make it to work if I didn't stop for gas first. I glanced in my mirrors and quickly darted across the road in order to make that left turn into my last chance for gas before I hit the freeway.

I pulled up to the pump, grabbed my purse and ran in to pay with cash at the register. As I stood in line, I noticed a car pulling up behind mine, but there was no pump for it to pull up to. There were other pumps available, but the car just sat behind mine. Then a man emerged and began to walk toward my car, peering in the windows. I furrowed my brow in concern.

"Ma'am." The lady behind the register called to me.

I snapped out of my fog and stepped up to the counter to pay. "Sorry. I need ten on number 5, please." I handed the cashier my money and then quickly made my way out to my car, wondering what was going on. As I drew closer, I thought the man looked familiar, but being a woman of vanity, I had removed my glasses before entering the store to pay and without them everything was a blur.

"There you are", the man said with a laugh.

I stopped dead in my tracks and squinted at him.

"It's me - your traffic buddy." He laughed again.

I clasped my hand over my chest then. "Oh!" I exclaimed. "Oh, of course. Yeah. Hey!"

He laughed again and I joined him.

"Gosh, you scared me," I said, opening my car door and throwing my purse onto the passenger seat.

"I scared you?" He pretended to be insulted.

"Well...I mean...I can't see very well without my glasses. I left them in my car. I was standing in line in the store wondering why some strange man was approaching my car. I thought maybe I'd done something in traffic to make you mad at me or something."

We both laughed together.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He gently took the gas nozzle from my hands then. "Let me get that for you."

"Oh, wow! Thanks!" I exclaimed. "You really don't have to. I mean...you probably need to get to work and..." I looked him over as he pumped my gas, completely oblivious to his motives. I was only 20 at the time and, being unaccustomed to attention from the opposite sex, I was always slow to pick up on cues.

He finished pumping then and returned the nozzle to the pump.

"Here," I jumped in, placing the cap back on the tank. "You don't have to do all this. Really."

"Actually, I was hoping I could get your number," he stated, leaning against my car.

My breath caught in my throat. I glanced up at him in horror. "Uh...." My voice suddenly became weak and shaky.

"What's wrong?" He responded in a slightly irritated tone, his smile suddenly vanished.

I looked away and my face turned flush. A wave of guilt flooded over me. I felt like an evil person. Like I had led this poor victim into a trap of some sort, although it was never my intention.

"Why can't you give me your number?" He asked in a softer, gentler tone.

I met his eyes, a look of horror still etched into my face. I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. All I could do was shake my head, as I pleaded for forgiveness with my eyes.

"What?" He laughed a breathy laugh. "Are you OK? I'm not a serial killer or anything. I just think you're cute and I feel like we've almost been dating or something". He chuckled aloud then and folded his arms across his chest.

I laughed weakly, exchanging my expression with one of pain.

"I was just interested in getting to know you," he continued, "and thought maybe you'd be interested too, so I..."

"I'm married!" I shouted it in complete exasperation, cutting him off mid sentence.

He jumped away from my car as though it had burned him. His look was hard. His expression was accusing, as though I had betrayed him.

"I - I....I...." I held my left hand up and pointed to my ring-less fourth finger. "I'm married. I'm so....I'm so sorry." I felt horrible. Evil. In reality I was innocent, but I didn't feel innocent. "What have I done?" I thought.

"You're not wearing a ring." He held his hands up then and backed away, as though I were holding a gun to him, threatening his life. "You never...seemed like you were married." He glared at me hard, continuing to back away.

"I'm pregnant." I pointed to my flat belly. It was only my first trimester so I wasn't showing. "My fingers are swollen already. That's why I can't wear my ring."

The man turned and nearly ran back to his car. I turned away and stared blankly at my expression in my car window as I listened to his door slam. The engine roared as he sped out of the station. I glanced about at the other people pumping gas. It seemed they were all staring, taking in the drama. I looked away again in shame and quickly slid into my car, driving away quickly. My heart pounded all the way to work, my flesh stinging with the feel of a thousand needles. I ran the past week's events over and over in my head, trying to determine where I had gone wrong.

That night at dinner, as I sat across from my husband, the man in the black, sporty car invaded my thoughts. I wondered if I should tell my husband. I felt like a bad wife. I felt like a lost soul bound for hell. Perhaps a bit dramatic, but being the young, inexperienced, guilt-ridden woman I was at the time, I really felt as though I had committed some sort of crime against the institution of marriage.

Fifteen years later, this experience continues to haunt me to the point where I will absolutely REFUSE to look in anyone's direction if they honk, wave, or call out to me in traffic.

Revenge Is Not Always Sweet.

Hi. My name is Kristin. I began typing out an e-mail message to a man whose profile had caught my attention on the Internet dating site I was currently a member with. I just read your profile and it looks like we have quite a bit in common. And also I think you're cute.

Call it overly bold, aggressive...whatever you want, but one divorce and three years of Internet dating later, I had settled on blatant honesty as my tactic of choice.

We should go check out some live music together sometime. I know some great venues. I finished and hit send.

Later that night when I checked my e-mail, there was a response. A wave of excitement moved through me as I opened the message.

Hi Kristin. It began. Thanks for the message, but I'm kind of getting tired of girls being all into me just because I'm going to be a doctor. So thanks anyway. Good luck.

"WHAT?!" I nearly shouted.

His career path had nothing to do with it and I was furious over his insinuation that I was nothing more than a money chaser. Little did he know, I had had the chance to marry a doctor a few years earlier; a man I was very much in love with who also happened to be a very wealthy doctor. But after months of praying over the proper way to answer his question "Will you marry me?" the answer always came up "No." I wasn't happy about it and I continued to think it over, deciding I didn't particularly like that answer and I was going to just try and figure it out on my own. But when I finally humbled myself and realized God had a different plan for me, I turned him down and cried myself to sleep for an entire year.

"Wow. What an arrogant..." I stopped mid sentence, deciding against lowering myself. Instead I opted for stating aloud to myself, "And that's why you're single and probably always will be." I clicked the "X" on his profile with satisfaction, removing his image from my screen.

A couple of months later I was invited to a singles party. It took me an entire Saturday to decide if I was actually going to attend as I had no one to attend with and didn't particularly feel comfortable showing up at large parties alone. At the last minute my courage (or perhaps desperation) won over and I found myself entering a house bursting at the seams with people. As I inched my way through the crowd, seeking out someone I knew, I caught sight of him sitting on a couch, a blond girl bouncing up and down next to him, talking in a loud, obnoxious voice and making exaggerated gestures with her hands. He looked bored. I smirked as he glanced about the room, seemingly looking for an out.

The corners of my mouth instantly fell as his eyes locked on mine. I returned his puzzled gaze with a hard stare. That's right, I thought. You know me. I'm the on-line girl you insulted. I could tell by his face that he couldn't quite place where he knew me from. I quickly turned my face from him and continued through the sea of people.

Fortunately we never crossed paths again that night.

A few weeks later, as I sat in church, waiting for the meeting to begin, I glanced about the chapel and noticed a familiar profile. It was him. Again. I heaved a frustrated sigh and thought, What's HE doing here? Then I realized a return missionary was speaking and there was an entire group of unfamiliar faces seated near a family I knew from the ward. I gasped slightly and my heart pounded. Oh no. Is he their SON? I thought in horror, looking back and forth between him and the older couple he sat with, trying to match the features. Oh, please no.

It was difficult to concentrate on the speaker. The words of his e-mail continued to run through my mind and I allowed my anger and pride to get the best of me. Feeling a little flushed and in need of some air, I quietly exited through a back door and stepped into the hall, drawing in a deep breath of relief. As I circled around the building to where the drinking fountain was located, I nearly bumped into someone rounding the corner from the other direction.

"Whoa. Hi." The man chuckled.

I gasped and my voice caught in my throat. It was HIM! I could feel my eyes widen in horror. "Hi." I answered shortly and continued on.

"Hey, wait a minute. I think I know you." He said in amusement.

This only infuriated me more.

"Oh, really?" I responded, my flushed face betraying my emotion. "Oh yeah", I drawled, pointing a finger at him. "I saw you at a party, I think."

"Yeah, but I've seen you somewhere else." His brow furrowed and he began rubbing his chin, gazing into my eyes. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning.

Don't remember. Don't remember. I repeated over and over in my head.

"Hey, are you on LDSSO?" He gasped, seemingly making the connection. (LDSSO was the singles site we had communicated through).

I closed my eyes in defeat and heaved a sigh. "Yeah. I WAS on there. I actually sent you a message and you told me you weren't interested. But, anyway. No big deal. Good to see you again. Take care." I spit the words out as fast as I could and turned abruptly, hoping to get away from him as quickly as possible.

"Wait!" He called out.

I froze and shut my eyes tight, heaving another sigh.

"I remember that." He continued. "I know who you are now."

I turned toward him, a grimace on my face.

"I'm so sorry about that. That was...just stupid. I was just upset about something else that night and I totally took it out on you."

I could feel my expression softening. "It's ok. No big deal." As my pulse slowed, I decided to take the opportunity to ask him why he was here.

"Oh, that's my younger brother speaking today." He replied.

"Oh. Ok. That's what I thought. I can see the resemblance." I gave an exaggerated nod.

We stood in awkward silence a few seconds.

"So..." I began, hoping to excuse myself to the bathroom - just to get away.

"Well..." He cut in at the same time.

We both laughed nervously.

"Sorry", he started in again. "I was just gonna' say maybe we could try this again. Do you want to go to dinner sometime?"

I sucked in a quick breath and contorted my face to resemble a pained expression. "I'm actually...engaged." I hesitated before looking into his eyes.

He scoffed and chuckled. "I deserve that."

"I really am." I said, looking him straight in the eye this time.

"Oh really? Where's your ring?" He teased and then folded his arms across his chest, waiting for my answer.

I heaved a sigh and glanced heavenward, trying to determine if I should even get into the whole story of how my fiance and I had not even met in person yet, so there was never an opportunity for me to receive a ring at this point. "It's being sized." I lied.

He nodded his head. "Where is he?" He pressed.

"Who?" I asked.

"Your...fiance?"

"In Utah." I replied without hesitation.

"Ahhh...ok. So...you met him on-line too?"

"Yep." I replied.

"Cool. That's cool. So when's the big day?"

"Ummm....December....ni...nth?" I drew it out in hesitation, making it sound more like a question. Truthfully, that was the day my fiance would fly in town and that's the day we would meet in person and that was hopefully the day we would be married, but that was yet to be determined based upon our meeting. But again, I wasn't in the mood to defend myself against the barrage of questions that usually accompanied my honest answers.

He threw his head back and laughed in response. "Uh huh." He said in a patronizing tone. "Well, good luck with that." And with that he turned and sauntered off.

I couldn't help but scowl at the back of his head as he walked away.

And now this brings me to the present day and most likely the end of this tale.

This morning in the grocery store as I picked over the apples, I saw a man dressed in scrubs approach me and join me. Our arms brushed against each other at one point and I glanced over quick and said, "Sorry" before I scooted a little farther away.

"Hey, I know you." I heard him say.

I stopped what I was doing and glanced over at him again, this time looking at his face. A grimace spread across my face as I suddenly recognized him too.

"Looks like you've got some little ones helping you out there." He nodded towards the two children I had with me.

"Yep." I replied.

"They're cute."

"Thanks." I replied with a smile. "I've got two more just like 'em at home."

His jaw dropped. "Four?!" He nearly shouted in disbelief.

"Yep." I laughed and tied up my bag of apples.

He didn't say anything more so I glanced up at him quick. I could almost see those wheels turning again. I figured he was trying to do the math on how many years I had been married versus how many children I had.

"So, what - did you have twins or something? Or maybe triplets?" He laughed.

"Nope." I replied with a laugh. "I have an almost 14-year-old, a 4 1/2-year-old...." I stopped when his face betrayed his complete shock. "I had a son from my previous marriage." I explained.

"Oh." His eyebrows raised in surprise. "I didn't realize."

"Yeah, well...if you wouldn't have been so quick to tell me off and get rid of me all those years ago, you would have known." I teased, hoping he would take it well.

He hung his head in mock embarrassment and laughed. "Yeah. So...I guess you really WERE engaged, then, huh?"

I pretended to be insulted. "Did you really think I was lying about that?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. Actually, I did."

We both giggled nervously.

"So, what does your husband do?" He asked.

I took in a deep breath and proudly stated, "He's a pool man." Words could not describe how happy I was to report that. "I guess I wasn't after money AFTER all!" I just had to throw it in there.

He grimaced and nodded, looking away.

"So what about you?" I asked, making it obvious I was trying to get a good look at his ring finger.

He quickly hid his hand behind his basket. "Oh, no. I'm still single."

I nodded as if I already suspected that to be the case.

"For now." He added.

"Ah, for now. So, you're seeing someone then." I replied.

"Well....no..." He chuckled nervously. "Not exactly."

I looked into his eyes and saw pain.

"Well, I'm sure that's by choice." I stated, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort he seemed to be feeling.

"What's THAT supposed to mean." He sounded offended, but played it off like he was joking.

This was NOT going according to my plan. Not that I harbored any ill feelings toward the poor man, especially not after all these years. I got what I wanted, a husband/drummer for my band, more children. But I was hoping for a little more satisfaction than this. Now I felt like the jerk.

I looked him right in the eye and said in a very serious tone, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I seriously didn't. I was just...assuming that....I mean, you're a DOCTOR and a nice looking one at that. I'm sure if you're not dating it's because YOU'RE not interested and it's YOUR choice. I'm sure you could have any number of girls."

"Yeah, well. I'm kind of taking a break from that right now." I could hear the edge in his voice.

I looked at him with concern and waited for him to look up at me again. "I'm sorry." I said sincerely.

Seeing that I'd given the poor guy enough of a hard time, I backed away with my cart and said, "Well, I'm gonna' let you go. I'm sure you're very busy and I think I've harassed you enough. But it was really nice seeing you and I wish you the best."

"Yeah. Thanks. Good luck to you too." He said, not sounding too cheery.

Poor guy. Now I just feel bad. I was kind of hoping for some type of verbal joust where I'd get the ultimate stab in the end and walk away feeling proud of myself. That's usually the fantasy I envision when I encounter a guy from my past who hurt me in some way.

Oh well...I really do wish him the best.

And since he and I seem to cross paths every now and then, I sincerely hope the next time I see him he's happily married or at least...engaged.

The Story Behind The Shirt

"You keep to mess up. I write down what I want and you get date wrong. Over and over I tell you. You get date wrong." The drone of his accent buzzed around my head. I put on my usual somber expression for these particular occasions and nodded robotically.

This particular client was always yelling at me. He was sure the mistakes in the work were mine and though I continually explained that I was simply using the date he had written on the little scrap of paper he included with the dictation, we couldn't see eye to eye. He was unhappy with the medical reports I was typing for him because...well...that dang date was always wrong.

But his reprimands, his angry, crooked, brown finger shaking in my face, his veiled wife pacing back and forth behind him, occasionally stopping to fold her arms across her chest and scowl at me in agreement didn't even phase me today.

All I could think was, "I'm getting married in a few hours." They had no idea. Not that it would have changed anything. He was always right and I was always wrong and we just had to agree to disagree.

"I'm very sorry, Dr. _______. I guess I misunderstood. I thought you wanted me to use the date you had written on the piece of paper you included with the tape. I will call your office next time and double check that." This conversation was becoming tired. It was the same thing every time. I guess I just didn't know what he wanted.

And to be honest, at that moment, I just plain didn't care anymore. "Just fire me", was what I really wanted to say. I shook his hand, it was his usual dead fish grip. Ugh. And with that, I gathered up the work and scurried from the office, throwing a quick wave and plastic smile to his staff before escaping.

As I drove the short distance home, I wondered if the package I was expecting had arrived yet. It wasn't absolutely necessary for the day's events, but I thought it would be fun and this was the only time I felt it would be appropriate, really. Within minutes I was screeching into my garage, throwing the door open and jogging to my mail box. I fumbled wildly with my keys, dropping them a couple of times before I managed to open the box.

But alas, my heart sank and I heaved a sigh as I discovered only a few regular letter-sized envelopes. "Oh well. It would have been cute, but..." My words trailed off and I moped back to my condo.

I entered my kitchen, took note of the time and realized I had only one hour to prepare and then the moment I had been waiting one month for would finally arrive - the moment I was to meet my fiance in person and decide if I should really marry him.

I ran to my bedroom, threw open the closet doors and frantically rummaged through my clothing, trying to find something else to wear since my original plan had apparently fallen through. I ripped my blouse off and began pulling shirt after shirt over my head and checking my appearance in the mirror, briefly playing with my hair, fluffing it out, pulling it on top of my head and turning to view my appearance from different angles.

I heaved a frustrated sigh and ripped my shirt off again.

"DING DONG!" I jumped and gasped at the sound of my doorbell. Who could that be? Not now! I didn't have time for interruptions. I quickly scanned the room for something to throw on quick to answer the door. I pulled my bathrobe on quick and ran to the door just as the doorbell rang again.

"Coming!" I called out. I threw the door open and there stood my neighbor from across the way. He was a tall, gaunt man, usually seen pacing in front of his door, taking drags off his cigarette, looking for someone to visit with. He lived alone. And he knew I lived alone and was home all day - just like him, which usually prompted him to stop in for a visit. I ignored his persistent knocking most of the time, excusing myself later when our paths crossed by telling a tale of how I must have been showering or napping or something.

"Hey. I can't visit right now. I've got to be somewhere in like thirty minutes," I spit out before he had a chance to speak.

"Oh", he stepped back. "Well, I don't mean to bother you..."

"It's OK." I cut him off impatiently. "No problem. I'll talk to you later, K?"

Just as I reached for my door to shut it in his face he pulled a package out from behind his back. "I believe this is yours."

I gasped. "Oh! This is it! It came!" I squealed in delight.

A huge grin spread across his face. "Oh good. I like seeing you happy."

I immediately stopped jumping up and down like a school girl and smiling weakly, calmly took the package from his hands. "Thanks. I really appreciate you dropping this by. But I've really got to go."

"Got a date?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"Kind of", I chuckled. "OK. Well, see ya' later."

In my effort to be courteous in the midst of my anxiety, I let him take a couple of steps away from my door before I gently closed it and slowly locked it. And then bolted like a mad woman toward my room, ripping the package to shreds to get to it.

The shirt.

My extremely conventional courtship and marriage at the age of 19, which ended in an ugly divorce at the age of 21, opened my eyes to a whole new, unconventional way of doing things. And so I gently lifted the shirt from its shredded package and held it up in the light, admiring the sparkly lettering, which read, "Mrs. Coppee." Perhaps a bit premature, but after weeks of prayer and meditation, I was pretty confident in my decision to marry Bertrand Coppee. I only hoped he was as confident.

Soon it was time to go. My stomach back-flipped and my heart began pounding wildly out of my chest. This was it - the moment of truth.

Though Bertrand and I had spoken of marriage and had mutually decided it was the right thing to do, we still left the absolutely final decision open. "If we see each other and we don't feel right suddenly, even if it's just one of us, we won't go through with it. I'll put you up at my parents' home and we'll just spend the weekend together, hanging out and talking and go from there." Those were the words of reassurance I gave us both at the close of our final conversation before the meeting.

I drove to the airport, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles were white. So many thoughts were flooding my mind. I was excited and nervous and just couldn't wait to finally see him in person and see how I felt. I suddenly worried that we might not feel the same way and I'd either be hurt or have to do the hurting. I silently prayed in my head that we'd at least have the same feeling either way.

I finally arrived and found a parking space as close to the doors as I could. I turned off my car and laid my head back, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself a little. I grabbed the paper from my purse, noting Bertrand's flight information and made my way into the airport terminal.

As I made my trek to the gate number for his flight, my legs became a little wobbly. I pushed through the crowd and walked close to the wall in case I needed a little help steadying myself. I found the gate number and fumbled with the paper in my hands, double checking the number, already second-guessing myself.

Just then the passengers from the plane began to emerge through the double doors. I scanned the first crowd coming through. One man in particular kind of looked like Bertrand, so I fixed my eyes on him, studying his face. Though I had seen his pictures many times on-line, he looked so different in all of them that I once asked him, "So, which one of these do you really look like? You're so different in all of them." He laughed and said, "They're all me. They're all recent. I don't know what you mean. I think YOU look different in all of YOUR pictures."

The man I was fixated on made eye contact with me and looked away. I sighed and looked back at the double doors. I nervously chewed on my bottom lip as I continued to scan the people, looking for his face. Person after person filed through the doors. Several minutes passed and the number of passengers began to diminish. Still I had not found him. I heaved a frustrated sigh then and leaned against a pole, folding my arms across my chest and furrowing my brow. The situation was looking grim. A few seconds passed now before one or two people would come through, but nobody resembling my fiance.

And then the people around me cleared and all became silent. I cocked my head to the side and sighed again, looking around to see if any man was standing off to the side, looking for me. There was no one. One of the airport personnel shut the doors then and locked them. My expression turned to one of disbelief. Suddenly I felt so alone. So sad. I felt my shoulders slump. I fell back against the pole again and stared at the ground. My mind began to race with so many thoughts.

"Maybe he decided he didn't want to come after all."

"But he sounded so happy and excited on the phone last night. He didn't indicate any second thoughts."

"Now what?"

"I wonder if he's left a message at home for me or something."

"I don't know that I want to talk to him anymore."

"I feel so stupid."

"I bet he never had any intention of marrying me."

I pulled my cell phone from my purse and checked it. No messages. No missed calls. My head was spinning. I felt so lost.

"Oh well", I sighed aloud. I slowly turned and began walking back toward the elevators to the parking garage. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I looked heavenward and took a deep breath, fighting them back. I glanced around and saw a few people staring at me. I felt even more stupid. I just wanted to run home, climb into bed and never come out again.

Just as I reached the elevator lobby, an announcement came over the loud speakers. I could hear a voice speaking, but I tuned it out.

And then suddenly I heard my name. I jerked my head up and began turning around, looking toward the ceiling for the speakers. There was so much noise. I staggered out to the middle of the main hall, still turning about, searching the ceiling for the sound.

"This message is for Kristin Poulsen. Please pick up a white paging phone. Kristin Poulsen please pick up a white paging phone."

"What's going on?" I mumbled, snapping out of my fog-like state. I looked both ways and chose to go to the left, searching for a white paging phone. I picked it up and looked at it for a second, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Hello. How can I help you?" I heard a voice say through the receiver.

"H-hi. Umm...I think you - I think you called my name." I stammered.

"Kristin Poulsen?" The voice asked.

"Yeah?" I responded.

"There's a Bert-i-nand Co-PEE (his name is pronounced Ber-TRON Co-PAY) looking for you." The woman stumbled over his name.

I gasped. "He's here? Where is he?"

"He's waiting for you at the west end information desk", the voice replied.

"I don't know where that is", I panted in desperation. "I don't even know where I am right now. I mean, I know I'm in the airport, but I don't even know what part. I have no idea which end is east and which end is west and..."

The woman interrupted, "OK, ma'am, just calm down. I can talk you through it."

I heaved a sigh of relief and listened intently to her instructions. Then I slammed the phone down and began walking as fast as I could toward the location. "He's here! He's really here!" I repeated over and over in my head. My pace increased and I panted, trying to hold back my elation. There were people sitting and standing all along the walls of the long hallway. I felt like they were all staring at me. Like they all knew what was about to happen and they wanted to see the outcome. I was excited, but a bit anxious too. Of course, these people were all complete strangers and had no idea why I was there or where I was going. I looked away from their stares and squinted my eyes as I approached the west end of the terminal, trying to see if I could spot Bertrand.

As I closed in on the information desk, I spotted the back of a man in a dark suit. He seemed to fit the description, so I continued to scan him up and down, hoping he would turn a bit, so I could see part of his face. Just then he slowly turned, caught sight of me and grinned. The anxiety in my expression melted into a relieved smile. Though I was very close to him at this point, my pace didn't slow and I ran right into him, our hands clasping together. We gazed into each other's eyes and both said, "Hi" in a dreamy voice. Then we grabbed each other in a hug and held each other a few minutes.

Though this was our first meeting, it felt like I had known him forever - that I had already met him before. After a few minutes, we pulled away from each other and looked into each other's eyes again, giggling now like a couple of children.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said, studying my face.

"I'm so glad YOU'RE here." I responded with a giggle. "I went to your gate and watched everyone get off the plane and I never saw you. I thought maybe you had changed your mind."

"Well, I'm here," he teased.

"I know," I panted in an exasperated tone. "I'm glad I heard the speaker paging me. I almost left because I thought you weren't here. Your flight must have come in early."

"It did. But I thought you would be here already. I've been walking the airport looking for you. I thought maybe YOU had changed your mind." He chuckled.

"Oh my gosh!" I said, grabbing him in a hug again.

When I pulled away again, he was gazing into my eyes and smiling. And then he slowly leaned in and kissed me. As I kissed him back, I noticed we fit together perfectly. I loved the way he kissed. It just confirmed what I had already felt - that this was meant to be.

I backed away and gazed up at him with a questioning look. "So...."

"So....." he mimicked.

"Are we getting married, then, or what?" I felt my cheeks burn and I laughed nervously.

"I don't know. Are we?" He teased.

"I feel good about it." I responded.

"Good. Me too." He hugged me again for a few moments and then grabbed my hand and said, "Well, lead the way."

And so I did, to the parking garage, to my car, and to my home - soon to be our home.

...to be continued...