Only Forever - A contemporary romance short story inspired by true events Read online

  Only Forever

  A Romantic Short Story

  By

  Kimberly Kinrade

  Only Forever

  A Romantic Short Story

  By Kimberly Kinrade

  Published by Daring Books

  Copyright 2013 Kimberly Kinrade

  Cover Copyright 2013 Dmytry Karpov

  Edited by Dmytry Karpov

  You may not use, reproduce, or transmit in any manner, any part of this book without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. All rights are reserved.

  This is a work of fiction inspired by the true events of how the author's parents met and fell in love. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

  Dedicated to my parents, who have shown me that true love exists. They are the reason I write happily ever afters, and why I'm living my own.

  This story was inspired by their love story. Some names and facts have been changed for fiction, but the best parts of this story are true. They really did live happily ever after. And the thing about the pants? Also true.

  February 16, 2013

  Happy Anniversary! And Happy Birthday, Mom.

  Only Forever

  It was an unusually hot Los Angeles day in May 1978 when fate used a pair of bellbottoms to give her the happily ever after she'd dreamed about as a child.

  Robyn needed a night off. A night to unwind with friends, let loose and pretend, if only for a few hours, that she was a normal 22 year old.

  She tossed through her closet, looking for something to wear, as she waited for her parents to pick up her 6-month-old son and 2-year-old daughter for an overnighter.

  Neil cried from the other room, and she abandoned her search to tend to the chubby infant.

  "Come here, baby. I've got you." She lifted him and gazed into his chocolate brown eyes as she fed him his bottle. Neil looked just like his father, but thinking of her high school sweetheart did nothing to lift her spirits, so she focused on other thoughts.

  Like what she would do now that she was a single mom with two kids.

  When Neil finished his bottle, she put him back in the crib and checked the clock. Her dad would be there in twenty minutes, and she hadn't packed their overnight bags or picked out what to wear. She'd also need to get more formula before the kids came home tomorrow, since they were nearly out.

  As her baby curled into a ball and fell asleep, she went back to her closet. Nothing she pulled out screamed "Wear Me!" and she was running out of time.

  A loud crash startled her. She ran to the kitchen, heart beating fast in a panic of worry over her daughter. Violent images flashed through her mind. In twenty seconds she'd lived through every horrible thing that could have possibly befallen her precocious toddler, from pulling down a heavy pot on her head to impaling herself with a knife.

  She didn't know whether to cry or laugh at what she saw. "Kimberly Ann, what have you done?"

  The little girl sat in the middle of the kitchen surrounded by pots and pans. But that wasn't the worst of it. No. Her child, undoubtedly possessed, had smeared herself with honey and then rolled around in a bag of flour that now covered the kitchen floor.

  She looked like she was preparing herself to be tarred and feathered, and Robyn was close to allowing it until the girl smiled her toothless smile and said, "Look Mama. I cooked."

  Scooping her up in her arms, Robyn whisked her away to the bathroom.

  When grandpa arrived, Kimmie was freshly scrubbed, Neil had been buckled up in his baby seat, both had bags packed, and Robyn had sticky flour all over her clothes.

  Her friend, HotDogger—who'd gotten this nickname under mysterious circumstances that no one talked about and had used it for so long that everyone had forgotten her real name, arrived moments after Robyn's dad left. "You're not wearing that to the party are you? You know there'll be men there. Men who aren't gay!"

  Nice of her to rub in the fact that her soon-to-be ex-husband had been batting for the other team and had just come out of the closet, leaving Robyn in an apartment she was about to lose, with two kids depending on her.

  "Don't even start. You have no idea what I've dealt with tonight."

  HotDogger raised an eyebrow. "Did the Pillsbury Doughboy explode on you and your kitchen?"

  Robyn left the room to change, using a washcloth to rid herself of honey and flour, then pulled on the first clean shirt and pants she could find. "No. Kimmie exploded."

  She heard her friend laugh in the other room. "That girl's going to run you ragged. Let's go, we're late already."

  "Late to sitting around smoking and drinking and staring at lava lamps?" She pulled on the borrowed-for-so-long-they-were-now-rightfully-hers bellbottoms the she'd confiscated from HotDogger at least a year ago and a green shirt that hugged her chest and tapered out with long flowing sleeves. The green would at least bring out her eyes.

  With a quick brush through her long brown hair, she grabbed her purse and joined her friend.

  HotDogger took a drag of her cigarette. "Better. You'll do. Let's jam."

  Robyn pulled the last cigarette she had out of her purse, lit it and tried to imagine herself as carefree as her friend, at least for the night.

  ***

  Norm searched his drawers and laundry basket once more for his favorite bellbottom pants, but couldn't find them. He settled on jeans and a tie-dye shirt. As long as it didn't have grease on it from his job working on cars, he was happy.

  He considered calling Helen to see if she wanted to come to the party with him, but he knew the answer already. For five years he'd stayed with her out of habit, the way you might keep smoking the same brand of cigarettes, even if you didn't particularly like them. She was familiar. Comfortable. But not very interested in enjoying life.

  Their engagement had been a default arrangement that seemed to be expected after dating someone for so long. They hadn't moved in together. Hell, she hadn't even let him buy her a ring for fear he'd screw it up.

  He tried to remember a time when they'd actually loved each other, when the passion of being together had carried them through everything, but he couldn't. Those times didn't exist. She'd been the daughter of family friends, and they'd fallen into dating the way they'd gotten engaged. By default.

  But being the kind of guy who didn't challenge life, he went along and found other corners of life to squeeze out moments of joy.

  His most recent was parked outside. A lemon yellow 1978 Triumph Spitfire—his pride and joy.

  Norm loved to take long drives for no reason—another thing Helen didn't enjoy. In high school, his car had been more toy car than real car, so much so that he'd had to chain it to trees while in class to keep his friends from lifting it up and moving it around campus as a prank.

  But he'd finally gotten his dream sports car after long hours working in the shop to save up for it, and he intended to get as many miles out of it as he could.

  With a quick comb through his mustache and beard, he slipped into the two-seat convertible and made fast time to this friend of a friend's party.

  It was late when he arrived, and the party was in full swing. Smoke filled the air, some cigarette, some not. Lava lamps dropped their bulbous mass in glowing liquid as those too drunk or stoned to form words stared vacantly. Couples made out in corners or rubbed their bodies' against each other to the beat of a Led Zeppelin song.

  And all of it disappeared when he set eyes on her.

>   He noticed her smile first—the way it lit up her face and banished all the worry he'd seen in her eyes just moments before. Her green eyes sparkled with a daring quality that pulled him in and made him want to know more.

  Then he noticed the rest of her. Her full breasts and the curve of her hips.

  And her pants.

  She was wearing his favorite pants.

  Not the style or brand, but his actual favorite pants.

  Perplexed. Intrigued. Confused. He walked through the smoke and gyrating bodies to meet the woman who'd somehow stolen his bellbottoms.

  ***

  Robyn mourned the end of her last cigarette as she snubbed it out in an ashtray. HotDogger had already ditched her to flirt with some guy in the other room, so Robyn took in the scene, swaying to the music.

  Someone handed her a beer and she drank deeply, letting the alcohol relax her. Somehow her future would sort itself out. For tonight, her kids were safe, she was free and life had promise.

  She'd never imagined she'd end up divorced with two kids at 22. Marriage was forever, and she'd expected to grow old with her husband, living happily ever after as they raised their children together and enjoyed their grandchildren someday.

  The fact that he'd been gay took some sting out of it, theoretically. Unless she'd turned him gay, somehow, but she didn't think that was possible, was it?

  Maybe she was so repulsive that men would rather be with other men than with her.

  Mentally swatting herself, she took another swig of her beer and joined in a conversation with a few people she knew in passing. The guy made a joke and, though it wasn't funny, Robyn laughed anyways, enjoying the feel of smiling after so many tears.

  The unused muscles in her face stretched as she allowed herself some happiness.

  She and her ex had fought so much at the end that it was better they weren't together anymore. Still, life had lost a lot of its fun for her, and she wanted to find that fun again. For herself. For her kids. So she threw herself into the party and didn't see the man with the beautiful blue eyes until he stood so close to her she could smell his aftershave.

  He smiled when she turned to look at him, and her heart bounced in her chest.

  "Hi, I'm Norm." He stuck out his hand, and she took it.

  It was a strong hand, callused and rough. His nails had grease under them that looked permanent, but that didn't turn her off. She liked his hands and what they said about his work ethic. They were the hands of a man who worked hard.

  But his eyes, they were the eyes of a man who also laughed a lot, and she liked that, too.

  "I'm Robyn."

  "I like your name." They were still holding hands, and she wondered if she should pull away, but she didn't want to.

  "Thanks."

  Someone bumped into them, pushing her against his chest. He released her hand to catch her around the waist, his lips just inches from hers.

  She steadied herself and pulled back, a flutter of something new dancing in her stomach.

  "This is going to sound strange," he said, "but did you realize that you're wearing my bellbottoms?"

  Was this guy smoking something? Probably. "It sounds like a very strange pick up line to try to get into my pants."

  "You mean my pants."

  "How could these possibly be your pants? I've had them forever, and we just met."

  As bizarre as this conversation was, he was so mild mannered and kind, she didn't feel threatened or accused.

  "I can prove it. Unroll the cuff on the right leg, and you'll see a cigarette burn hole in it."

  She eyed him skeptically, but couldn't exactly refuse, so she bent down to check the right cuff. Sure enough, there was a cigarette burn hole right where he said.

  Her heart skipped another beat. "How did you know about that? I didn't even realize it was there."

  "Because they're my pants. I put that hole there one night trying to tie my shoes while holding my cigarette at the same time. I don't recommend doing that, by the way."

  She laughed for the second time that night, and this time it was genuine. "So, if this is true, then how do you think it happened that I'm wearing your pants?"

  "A puzzle. I like puzzles. Let's start with the obvious. Where did you get the pants in question?" The laugh lines around his eyes looked well-used, which gave her the confidence to play along with this game.

  "A friend of mine gave me a bag full of clothes, and these pants were in them."

  "Does this friend have a name?"

  Oh boy. "I'm sure she does. Everyone just calls her HotDogger."

  Norm started laughing, and then Robyn started laughing, even though her name wasn't that funny.

  When the laughter subsided, he explained. "She used to be my roommate. Sounds like she stole my pants, then gave them to you."

  "You roomed with HotDogger? How did we never meet?"

  He shrugged. "Fate brings people together at the right time. I guess tonight was the right time. For the record, the pants look better on you than they ever did on me, or HotDogger."

  She blushed at his compliment, feeling attractive for the first time in a very long time, despite the bits of flour and honey still stuck to various parts of her body thanks to her child. "So, what do you think her nickname means?"

  Norm waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated movement. "I could speculate, but it wouldn't be pretty."

  ***

  Norm had never really believed in fate, or destiny. He gave lip service to it, but he'd always relied on common sense to get him through most things in life and had been content to go with the flow.

  Meeting Robyn wearing his favorite pants changed everything for him.

  They spent the rest of the evening talking. If pressed, it would have been impossible to say what specifically they'd talked about. Life, politics, religion, music, movies… probably all of that and more.

  It wasn't the words being spoken that mattered, it was the thing happening beneath the words.

  Their lives were fusing with each word, like tectonic plates moving closer together through a force of nature out of their control—they were two islands becoming one.

  He saw his future in her emerald eyes—a life of passion and adventure, a life of late night drives for no reason and lazy Saturday mornings in bed. A life that wasn't by default, but was chosen and created with intention.

  Then she asked a question that once again changed everything.

  "Can you give me a ride to the store? I need to pick up formula for my son."

  ***

  His eyes widened and she wondered if this would be the thing that scared him away. She wasn't ashamed of her kids. On the contrary, her children were her life. She'd never be with a man who couldn't love them as his own.

  So she waited to see if he would run toward her or away from her.

  "You have kids?"

  "Yes, two." She told him all about them, including the story of her flour and honey adventure before the party.

  He laughed at that. "I knew you'd be sweet, but I didn’t know you'd be that sweet."

  The thought of him tasting her, of them kissing, flushed her body with unexpected heat that had long been absent in her cold marriage.

  He agreed to giving her a ride, and she followed him out to his car.

  And what a car. She dared not even touch his yellow beauty, for fear of scuffing the perfect polish. "Nice ride."

  He smiled like she would have if someone had complimented her children. "Thanks."

  Then he did something that shocked her to the core. He held out the keys. "Want to drive it?"

  She didn't reach for the keys, too stunned at the offer. Her ex guarded his things carefully, never letting her near anything he deemed valuable. "Me? Seriously?"

  "Sure, why not? She's fun to drive."

  No one had ever trusted her like that. No one had ever believed her responsible or capable so easily and quickly. This man, whom she had just met, showed more faith in her than anyone else in her li
fe had, and her heart trembled with the secret knowledge that in one short night that felt like a lifetime, she'd fallen in love with him.

  She reached for the keys, knowing she was also reaching for her future.

  Then he said the one thing that slammed her heart to her feet and painfully stomped on it.

  "My fiancé hates to drive. It's nice to be with someone who enjoys it."

  ***

  Robyn tossed and turned that night—more like that morning—when she finally went to bed.

  Nothing physical had happened with Norm; they'd just hung out and enjoyed a night of talking. But something emotional had happened, and she knew they'd both felt it.

  Whatever he had with this other woman, it couldn't possibly compare to what Norm and Robyn now had. He'd even admitted that their relationship was by convenience and habit, not love or passion. She knew from experience that you couldn't make a marriage work just because you'd been with the person a long time or it was expected.

  Her ex had never been her soul mate, and this other woman wasn't Norm's soul mate.

  They'd exchanged numbers, and he'd driven past his house and shown her where he lived.

  He'd just celebrated his 23 birthday. Thinking about all the cigarettes she'd bummed from him all night, it seemed the only polite thing to do was replace them. Besides, she'd kept his pants; the least she could do was get him a birthday present.

  With that decided, she fell into a fitful sleep. In her dreams, she and Norm were each on different boats, and a strong current kept pulling them apart. No matter how hard they held on to each other, the water tore them from each other's arms, leaving her alone, bobbing in the water with endless ocean in each direction and no way of knowing where home was.

  She woke up covered in sweat with someone banging on the door. Her kids were back. Time to pull it together and be a mom.

  ***