Anyone But You (25 page)

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Authors: Kim Askew

BOOK: Anyone But You
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“Is he here yet?” Carmen asked on her way to give a table their bill. “Where are you two lovebirds heading tonight?”

“I’m not sure. He told me it’s a surprise,” I said. I glanced over at the hungry crowd now converging on Mario near the front entrance to see if there was any sign of him yet. Just at that moment the door opened, and, backlit by the late afternoon sun, I saw him. He slipped through the door, much as he had the night of my sixteenth birthday, but this time he was a welcome guest. We locked eyes, and my heart gave that same hiccup it had when we first met. This time, we made our exit together, hand in hand.

The sun was just beginning to make its descent as we ambled down Taylor Street to our mystery destination. Turning right onto Loomis Street we entered Arrigo Park, the site of our secret tryst on that hot day last summer.

“Returning to the scene of my sob fest?” I teased, nudging my shoulder against his as we entered the park.

“Just wait—we’re not there yet,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze.

Near a patch of sycamore trees, Roman led me down a narrow gravel walkway. I gasped when we got to the end of the short trail.

“It’s beautiful!”

“They put the last of the plantings in today,” Roman explained. “It’s all been done exactly to the specifications that he left in his will.” The sun’s setting rays shone through the surrounding trees, casting an almost magical light in the small fern-dotted glen. A solitary granite bench, big enough to seat two, was situated at the center of the small garden. I approached it to read the inscription that had been etched upon it with gold inlay:

From gloom and woe let peace and friendship grow.

—In loving memory of Dominick Monte and Benito Caputo

Roman and I took a seat on the bench, and I rested my head upon his shoulder. In the trees above us, a nightingale—or was it a lark?—sang sweetly.

The End

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks …”

~William Shakespeare,
Twelfth Night

Thanks to Merit Press’s intrepid editor in chief, Jacquelyn Mitchard, for believing in us. Thank you to the talented team at Merit Press, especially Meredith O’Hayre, Ashley Myers, Bethany Carland-Adams, and Sylvia McArdle. We’re grateful to our early readers, Gigi Hooghkirk, Marianna Fowler, David Johnson, and Phyllis and John Helmes, who provided us with invaluable feedback. Many, many thanks to our parents, siblings, and friends for their enthusiastic support, including a special shout-out to art director extraordinaire, Harriet Grant. Finally, we humbly submit our heartfelt gratitude to Amy’s husband, Mike Fowler (aka Mr. Darcy), and our literary fairy godmother, Nicki Richesin.

Copyright © 2014 by Kim Askew and Amy Helmes.

All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any

form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are

made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

Published by Merit Press

an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

www.meritpressbooks.com

ISBN 10: 1-4405-7001-9

ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7001-8

eISBN 10: 1-4405-7002-7

eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7002-5

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their product are claimed as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book and F+W Media was aware of a trademark claim, the designations have been printed with initial capital letters.

Cover image ©
123rf.com
.

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