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Authors: K. S. Thomas

I Call Him Brady (20 page)

BOOK: I Call Him Brady
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              “Oh my God,” I breathed.

             
He gently took my hand in his and slid the platinum band onto my finger. We were both shaking.

             
“When did you do this? We haven’t been apart for more than thirty seconds since I got here,” I stammered.

             
“Got it last week in New York. It just sort of found me when Cris and I were walking back to the hotel after lunch.”

             
I gawked at the rock on my finger like I’d never seen anything like it. I hadn’t. The band, while gorgeous, was amazingly plain. It had been handcrafted with a bold prong setting which featured an emerald cut diamond the size of a small island. I was wearing a fucking islet on my finger.

             
“It’s beautiful.” There simply was no better way to put it.

             
“It’s you.” Except for maybe like that.

             

              Two hours later, we finally resurfaced. This time at an upscale children’s furniture store. Choosing the right bed for Jessa took all of three seconds once we spotted the mermaid themed canopy one. Brady wasted no time setting up the delivery and then phoning Crisco to make sure someone would actually be at the house to receive it.

             
From there, we went straight for the airport. Deciding that neither of us was interested in a repeat from the last time we’d both been at an arrival gate, Brady opted to wait in the car.

             
“Oh my God! You’re literally glowing.” May shouted from halfway across the terminal while Jessa ran toward me at full speed. I lifted her up and held her tightly in my arms for the longest time.

             
“I missed you.” Her little voice was muffled by my hair.

             
I pulled my head out to look at her. “I missed you!”

             
Then, having covered that, she asked, “Where’s Brady?”

             
“In the car, waiting for us. He can’t wait to see you. And….he even has a surprise for you and Mermella back at the house.”

             
Her face lit up. “Really?”

             
“Absolutely.” Then, I turned to May. “He’s got one for you, too.”

             
She cocked her one eyebrow. “Yeah, I bet.”

             
“And so do I.” Slowly I let my ring bearing hand creep upward until it was level with her eyes.

             
“Holy shit! What is that? A fucking boulder?” She was practically screaming. Next thing I knew, she grabbed my hands and began jumping up and down in circles the way we had when we were kids. It was precisely the sort of reaction I had hoped for.

             

***

             
Within a month I was busy unpacking my old life in my brand new home. After house hunting for only a few days, we had gotten lucky and stumbled upon a place too perfect to pass up. It was a Mediterranean style house in Malibu, sitting up a ways from a private beach and surrounded by over two acres of lush green landscaping. If that weren’t enough, there was an extremely inviting pool just beyond the home’s courtyard.

             
It was like our own little oasis, meeting all of our needs, both inside and out. It even had a guest house I could convert into an art studio, as well as a play house and jungle gym which Jessa had been elated to discover.

In regard to the food truck, May and I had decided to pass on the torch to the new crew. And so, with bittersweet feelings, we proposed a business partnership to Grilla and Leo, both of whom happily accepted. All in all, I felt good knowing the Funky Fresh Foodies would go on without us.

              With Brady’s continued support, I was beginning a new journey pursuing life as an artist. Well, I supposed I’d already been one of those. But now, I was going to make more of an effort to get paid for my work. Since the show at the Mercado Galleria, I had had several more offers roll in and was now up to my eyeballs in paints and canvases, producing original pieces that could actually hang on the wall, rather than
be one
with the wall. It was taking some getting used to, but in the meantime, I was having a blast experimenting with it all.

             
Naturally, May had tagged along for the move, if only to see where I’d end up. With Marshall back in Detroit again waiting for her, everyone knew her days in sunny California were numbered.

             
I was in the master bedroom going through what seemed like the hundredth box of the day when Brady walked in holding a painting. It was the original rose piece I’d used to create the final love ad at the airport.

             
“Where do you want to hang this?” He was holding it up against the wall beside our bed to see how it would look.

             
“Not there,” I laughed.

             
“Well, it’s going in here somewhere, so pick a spot.”

             
I searched the room. “Try it over the headboard.”

             
He held in place then turned back for my approval.

             
“I like it.”

             
“So do I.” He grabbed the hammer hanging from his pocket and got to work. It wasn’t long before the roses were displayed in the center of our room.

             
With both hands free now, Brady came to help me with my nearly empty box.

             
“What else is left in here?”

             
I reached in and pulled out a basket of sea shells. “Just random stuff I had sitting around my old room.” I was about to set the shells down on the dresser when Brady took a hold of my wrist. Careful not to disturb the rest of the pile, he gently lifted a white seashell from the top. Then he flipped it over revealing the corrosion.

             
“This is the one I gave you the day we met. You kept it all this time?”

             
I shrugged. “Of course. It was the first time you showed me what was beneath the surface. It was like this tiny piece of you, revealing that there was someone else beyond the Jack Cole the rest of the world knew. It was the first time I saw Brady.”

             
He held the shell in his hands, studying it. “It was the first time I wanted someone to see.” Then he placed it back into the basket and waited for me to set it down on the dresser the way I had intended. As soon as my hands were free, he filled them with his own palms, drawing me in and sinking into my lips with his. All I could think was, how lucky I was to spend the rest of my life being kissed this way. Suddenly the years I’d gone without so much as a peck on the cheek seemed like a worthy sacrifice.

             
             

             
A few days later, May and I were busy folding a load of brand new towels I had recently acquired to fill my seven, yes – seven – bathrooms, when I caught her glance at my hand for the umpteenth time and shake her head in disgust.

             
“Look at that thing. It’s fucking obnoxious.”

             
I lifted my hand to take another peek at it myself. It was stunning the way it sparkled in the light. And, most importantly, it was so totally me. “You’re fucking nuts. It’s the most perfect ring in the history of rings!”

             
“I know.” She grinned. “I just like seeing the expression on your face when you look at it. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

             
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. It’s real though, right? All of this? You’d tell me if I was living in a bubble, May. Swear you’d tell me even if you thought it might crush me.” I was still having minor bouts with panic, but I was getting much better at overcoming them.

             
“You really need me to answer that for you?” May’s left brow was raised in disapproval.

             
Just then, I felt two strong arms reach around my waist from behind.

             
“No. I’m good.”

             
Brady’s chin rested on my shoulder. “What were you two talking about?”

             
“How happy you make me.”

             
He kissed my cheek. “Well, let me get out of here then so you guys can get back to that. It sounds like a conversation worth having.”

             
“Fucking idiot.” May threw one of my new hand towels at his head as he hurried from the room.

             
“It’s a good thing he knows you well enough to know that’s a term of endearment.” I placed the last of my folded towels back into the basket for easy transport.

             
“You’re the only one who thinks it is,” May smirked as she added her stack to mine.

             
Her phone jingled.

             
“Text from Marshall?” I asked as I started out of the room.

             
“No. It’s Google. I set it up to alert me anytime Brady related news hits the internet.” She was scrolling across the screen, reading something.

             
“What? Why?”

             
“So that I would know about stuff like this. Look, there’s a new video. You’re in it too. This must be from the other night when you guys went out to dinner.” May was glued to the tiny screen. “Man, you didn’t tell me you guys got mauled by all his fans.”

             
“Guess I’m getting used to it.” I proceeded to visit each of my seven bathrooms to make the necessary towel drops with May wandering behind, still engulfed in the video.

             
“You don’t even seem fazed by the way they’re all shouting his name, like they all want a piece of him.
Jack Cole, Jack, Over here, pick me
,” she mocked.

             
“May, I don’t care if every woman in the world calls out for Jack Cole.” Even I was surprised by the confidence in my voice.

             
“No?” She was looking at me with pleased curiosity.

             
“Why would I?” I smiled and shrugged. “I call him Brady.”

 

 

I
was standing in my old bedroom, my hand to the painting I had left behind.

“I told you I’d find a dress just like it.” It was May. She was watching me from the doorway. I glanced down at the white gown I was wearing. It really was like something I had dreamed up. I still couldn’t believe that she had found it, but then, that was her job these days.

May had started an online personal shopper business, making the most of her style and skills for searching the World Wide Web for things most people thought were unattainable. She had customers from all over the country, each wealthier than the next and paying big bucks for May to compile their perfect wardrobes and then have them shipped directly to their front door.

It was genius, really.

              A new business wasn’t the only new thing May had in the works. She was seven months pregnant with a mini-Marshall we couldn’t wait to meet. She said I couldn’t call him that once he was born, but as of yet, neither she nor regular sized Marshall had come up with a better alternative, so I wasn’t making any promises.

             
“You ready to do this, or what? My feet are about to blast out of these fucking shoes if I have to stand here another minute longer.” Pregnancy was bringing out the best in her.

             
“Yes, yes. I’m coming.” I hurried over to give her a hand and we waddled from the empty apartment.

             
Downstairs, our mother was waiting in the driveway along with Jessa, both dressed in beautiful gowns for the occasion, and together we made our way down to the sand.

             
The setting was intimate and small with only four short rows of seats on each side of the sand isle. Each chair was filled with the people who mattered the most to Brady and me and my heart swelled when I came down the dunes and saw them all.

             
But even that was nothing compared to the feeling that came over me when my eyes traveled the length of my path to its destination. Brady. My whole life I’d been walking a path that would ultimately lead me here and now I couldn’t wait to see where it would lead us to together.

             

 

BOOK: I Call Him Brady
6.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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