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To the date, to marriage, to everything.
I’m still reflecting on how that day changed the course of my life when I realize that I have a twenty-minute break between cases. It’s ninety degrees in the shade out there today, whereas that day seventeen years ago, it was thirty in the sun, so I grab my water bottle on my way outside.
Just in case.
Dee never told me that she planned to volunteer at this clinic, but despite the chaos the protesters create, I find my wife instantly. From her high ponytail to her Doc Martens, she could be twenty instead of forty, but there is something different about her now. Something settled, in a good way.
Her attention is on the patient she’s escorting, but when she looks up to navigate the curb, she sees me.
The smile beamed in my direction is exactly what I need to rally and get back to work. Which, after leaving the bottle on the low wall near the entrance and blowing her a kiss, is what I do.
* * *
Thanks for reading Dee and Sam’s story. If you’re curious about Dee and her soap opera star mom, you can check out their story in Child of Mine: www.books2read.com/COMKGrey
Or, for a selection of free stories, join my VIP club at followkarengrey.com
BE MY ANGEL
TINIA MONTFORD
ABOUT TINIA MONTFORD
Tinia (TUH-NIA) Montford is a Pisces who’s a sap for romance, especially when there’s (tons of) kissing. Loves eighties sitcoms and will consume anything with chocolate. She graduated from the University of San Francisco with a degree in English and Graphic Design.
She is a world traveler having climbed a volcano in Nicaragua, scaled Angkor Wat in the blistering sun, and roamed the Acropolis of Athens. Oh, she also dabbles in short stories occasionally.
If you can’t catch her writing, you can bet she’s overindulging on poke bowls, listening to the same four songs, or chilling with her adorbs doggie. She is currently pursuing her MFA in Fiction. You can find more information on her books on her website: http://www.tiniamontford.com
1
“LA,it’s been magnificent tonight, thank you!”
Shaylyn threw a kiss to the crowd. Thousands of lights from cell phones flashed as she took her final bow of her encore performance. Her chest heaved rapidly as she waved, sending the crowd into another roar.
It was the last night of her international tour, and after more than a year on the road, she was finally home. Her label should be happy—her latest album was selling steadily and she had a song in the Top 20.
“Thank you!” Shay waved again before rushing off the stage.
Backstage was in chaos. Stagehands were working the lights, someone was calling for a crew debriefing, and backup dancers were running back and forth to makeup and wardrobe.
“Shay Baby!”
Her manager, Barney Beverly, walked toward her with an open bottle of champagne in one hand.
“Another brilliant performance. Keep ’em comin’, mama.”
Shay took off her microphone, handing it to a tech. “I’m on vacation now.”
“Not yet you aren’t.”
Shay frowned. For the last year she had committed herself to this tour hoping that after ten years in the biz, she had proven she was ready to take back the reins creatively in her career. In her downtime, she had written the lyrics to a new album, an album that would be a complete one-eighty from the earlier party bops that had shot her to stardom.
Shay was pushing thirty now, and she wanted more than a club hit. She wanted a legacy of music that would be evergreen.
“Barney…” she groaned. “This was the last concert. You were going to send my new songs to the label.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to that. Don’t get up in arms yet, you might not want to do this, but have you seen the news? The Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. It’s a political free-for-all now, baby.”
