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Tom took a swig of his Bud Light. “Not tonight, darlin’, we have some serious business to take care of.”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll be back to kick your booties.”
Both men chuckled. They knew I was headed to change into my Lucky Charms shirt that stated I was magically delicious. I only ever wore it in the house during poker night. Maybe I should wear it around town to advertise. Although I preferred blind dates. I thought maybe the voice would appear if I dated men I’d never seen before. Just like when Brooks had popped his head over the fence. Or shown up out of the blue today. I had to stop thinking about it. Perhaps I should forget the voice and just choose someone myself. Not the podiatrist, though.
When I walked away, I heard Tom tell Daddy, “Steve, you’re a lucky man. That girl of yours is pure gold. I can’t believe some fella hasn’t snatched her up yet.”
“All in good time,” Daddy responded, as if he were okay with the fact that I was going to be a spinster. I truly was living the life of Emma Woodhouse. I had a doting father who didn’t want me to leave the nest, my mother was dead, and I lived in a beautiful house, albeit a little too pastel. Perhaps, though, it meant I would get my Mr. Knightley. A handsome, distinguished man I’d known forever but hadn’t considered to be husband material. Maybe I should start flipping through my own contacts. Brooks popped into my head. Absolutely not. I didn’t care that he had challenged me today, just like Mr. Knightley did with Emma. Or that he was handsome and distinguished. The man didn’t even recognize me.
With those lovely thoughts, I raced up the stairs and into my room, which was really two rooms. Daddy had knocked down the wall between my bedroom and the old guest bedroom, so it was more like a suite with a private bathroom. Totally Emma Woodhouse worthy. Except my room was more like a homage to Dr. Noah Drake, a.k.a. Rick Springfield of General Hospital. My momma had been obsessed with the show and him. Momma had said I would be a blessed child since I was born on March 25, 1981. The same day Dr. Noah Drake made his debut. Her water broke with me right after the episode was over. She’d told me she had cried for a week straight when he left the show in 1983 to focus on his music career. I only wished she had been around when he came back to the show in 2005. She would have squealed.
Momma had loved the show so much she used to tape episodes on our old VCR. I remember watching them with her when she would get really sick and have to stay in bed. I would curl up next to her and drool over the handsome doctor. I had vowed to Momma that if I ever had a son, I would name him Noah. It was the last thing she had whispered to me. “Don’t forget your promise, Gracie. I want a grandson named Noah.” I’d cried and laughed. Leave it to Momma to say something so silly as her last words. I’d kept all her old tapes and bought the last model of the VCR they ever made in 2016, just to make sure I could keep on watching them. Dr. Noah honestly was quite the rake, but there was something about him. Regardless of what a hot cad he was, watching those old tapes kept me connected to Momma.
I walked through my room and brushed my hand over one of my many Rick Springfield posters hanging on the walls. It was a fresh-faced one of him in scrubs. Wow, was he a looker. I stopped and sighed, gazing into Rick’s hazel eyes. Momma had been so thrilled when my eyes turned out to be hazel too.
“Don’t tell the guys downstairs, but oh, did I have a day today. You remember Brooks. He used to make fun of you, and of me for liking you. Yeah, I should have known then he wasn’t the one. Well, I saw him today. And I heard the voice again. I know, I’m as surprised as you. Obviously I need therapy. For goodness’ sake, I’m talking to a poster. Still, what’s your opinion? And how hairy are your feet?”
Rick stared back, just smiling, not saying a dang word.
“Fine. Be the strong, silent type.” I sighed and leaned my head against Rick as if he could really hug me. “Tell me, when is it going to be my turn?”Chapter FourI rubbed my hands together and stared down my opponents. I was equipped to win in my lucky shirt and cutoff shorts. “Who’s ready to lose?”
