The Romance Report (15 page)

Epilogue

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The Romance Report

A blog dedicated to the pursuit of love and happiness.

Monday, January 10, 8:37 a.m.

Well, dear readers, it’s time for The Romance
Report to close. It’s been a journey and I thank you all for sticking by me as
I learned a little bit about life and love and a whole lot about myself.

Lesson One: Nobody knows everything about life,
but we should all pay closer attention to our grandparents and other older
folks in our life. My Grandma and
Abuela
Reyna have given me more wisdom
about life and love than I could have ever learned on my own.

Lesson Two: Romance is great, but love should be
based on trust and friendship, too.

Lesson Three: Be yourself. If you do, everything
else falls into place.

That’s all, dear readers. I have to get ready for
school, and my boyfriend (I know! Exciting, isn’t it!) is fixing me breakfast
for my first day of school. Good luck in love, dear readers!

Comments:

Grayson 14: Does this mean
you won’t go to prom with me?

Dreambuilder: Sorry,
dude. She’s my girl now.

Quinn closed her laptop.
“I’m nervous. What if I screw this up?”

“You won’t screw this up,” Zach said. He handed
her a cup of coffee and a slice of toast with peanut butter. He kissed the top
of her head. “I’m dating a future five star chef. You’ve got this. After all,
you learned from Grandma Rose.”

“You’re right. I’d better get going if I’m going
to make it to school on time.”

“Good luck, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you get
home,” Zach said.

“I don’t need luck anymore. I already have
everything I need right here.” Quinn winked.

The End

Quinn’s
Smoky Mary Recipe

Ingredients

• 2
  to 3 cups ice
  
• 1-2
  limes, cut into wedges
  
• 1
  tablespoon horseradish, drained
  
• 1
  jalapeno pepper, quartered (more or less, depending on your desired level
  of heat)
  
• 2
  teaspoons smoked salt (to taste in the drink and the rest for brimming)
  
• 2
  cups vodka (more or less depending on the mood and how bad the date was)
  
• 3
  cups spicy vegetable/tomato juice (the best organic juice with 1 tsp.
  ground chipotle pepper if you can find it)
  
• 1
  tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
  
• Celery
  stalks for garnish
  
• Lemon
  and lime wedges for garnish
  

Directions

Muddle
ice, lime wedges, horseradish, jalapeno, and salt in the bottom of a pitcher.
Add vodka, tomato juice, and Worcestershire and stir to combine. Refrigerate if
not serving immediately, or pour into glasses rimmed with chipotle pepper and smoked
salt over ice. Garnish with celery stalk, and peppers. Enjoy and be sure to
share with friends!

Preview

Permanently
Deleted

Phee
Jefferson Series

Coming
December 2015

Chapter One

Phee sat at the circulation desk in the library.
She was busy checking in the large cart of books next to her. She wanted to get
everything done and shelved before she went home in a few minutes. The last
patron was packing up to leave when Juliet burst through the front doors.

“Phee, you’ve got to come,” Juliet panted.

“I’m busy, Juliet,” Phee said. “I want to get this
done.”

Juliet slammed her hand down in front of Phee.
Startled at her sister’s sudden burst of anger, Phee looked up and saw Juliet
was crying. “What in the world is the matter, Juls.”

“It’s Nellie Jo. They found Mike dead out at the
pickle factory,” Juliet sobbed, “and Clint’s arrested Nellie Jo. Phee, he said
she killed him. Nellie Jo killed her husband!”

Preview

Death
Kicked the Milk Bucket

Coming Spring 2016

Chapter One

Claire stomped out of the building. Unfortunately,
her attempt to slam the door failed miserably. It slowly eased shut and closed
with a soft whoosh of air. The large overstuffed tote bag filled with ten years
of her career slipped off her shoulder. Claire struggled to carry it
all to her old Subaru parked in the company parking lot. As she yanked the
tote bag back up, the strap ripped and everything
tumbled to the pavement.
 
 

    "Dang it!  If
one more bad thing happens, I swear I won't be responsible for my
actions!" Claire declared to the empty lot. Sighing, she bent down to
gather up her belongings. She heard a tearing sound as her pencil skirt
split down the back. "Really? You have got to be kidding me. I
guess that's what I get for challenging the universe.” Claire finished
gathering up her files and desk knickknacks and stuffed them back into her tote.
She grabbed the tote around the bottom and made her way to her car. Claire
fumbled around in her purse to find her keys and gave a triumphant “ha” when
she yanked them from the detritus of her purse. As she popped open the trunk,
Claire heard a tiny mew coming from the dumpster. As she slammed the trunk
shut, another small meow sounded. Claire walked to the dumpster and peered
inside. Nestled in a small cardboard box surrounded by garbage and rotting
food was a tiny orange kitten. It looked up at her and let out another
meow. 

"Poor little thing. Are you hungry?
 Somebody must have dumped you here and left you to fend for yourself.” Claire
reached into the dumpster, lifted the fluffy orange kitten and snuggled
him to her chest. It immediately started purring. "Well, you and I are
just having a bad day. I got thrown out like trash, too. Would you like to come
home with me?"  As if it understood her, the kitten meowed and purred
louder. Laughing, Claire picked carried the kitten to her car. She pulled
a t-shirt from her gym bag, settled the furry bundle on to the passenger seat,
then headed for her apartment.

Once home, Claire poured a small bowl of milk for
the kitten. "I guess you need a name. How about Gingersnap?"
 Claire sat down on the kitchen floor and gently stroked the kitten's back.
"You can be Ginger for short.” Claire's cellphone buzzed on the
counter. She struggled up from the floor to answer. Isabella's name appeared on
the screen and Claire hit the answer button.

"Hey, woman!  How was your day?"
Isabella asked cheerfully. In the background, Claire could hear the children
laughing and yelling. "Knock it off you little monsters! I'm trying
to talk to Claire and I can't hear over your screeching.” After years of
friendship, Claire was used to Isabella carrying on multiple conversations
while on the phone.

"I got fired," Claire responded glumly.

"Oh my gosh, Claire! What happened?"
 Isabella asked in a shocked voice. "Kids, please be quiet!  Go
play in your room until dinner's ready. Matthew quit hitting your brother.
Sorry, Claire. They're out of control with their dad out of town this week. So
tell me everything."

"Nothing happened. Mr. Simpson called me into
his office and started going on and on about the economic downturn and how
sacrifices needed to be made...blah blah blah. Five minutes later, I am in HR
signing papers. Before the ink was dry, a security guard told me that I
had one hour to pack my desk and leave the building. Ten years on the job
and I’m kicked to the curb like two-day old fish. It wasn't just me either. There
were two other people let go today." Claire slumped onto her overstuffed
couch, kicked off her heels and put her feet up on the coffee table.

"I am so sorry. What are you going to
do?" Isabella asked.

“No clue. I don't even want to think about it
tonight. I'll worry about it tomorrow. Darrin is supposed to take me out
tonight. He called this morning and said he needed to see me. Maybe he's
finally going to pop the question. He's been very secretive lately. I’m pretty
sure he's been ring shopping. I'll be Mrs. Stanislowski. Wife of Dr.
Stanislowski. Claire Stanislowski." Claire let the name roll off her lips.
"It sounds kind of posh."

"If you say so." Isabella grunted. She
was not a fan of Darrin. In her opinion, he was boring and uptight. "Well,
I've got to get dinner ready before the kids eat the dog. Text me when you get
home tonight."

"Will do. Bye.” Claire disconnected and
pulled herself up from the couch. Darrin was going to be there to pick her up
soon, so she needed to hurry and get ready. He hated to be kept waiting. She
pulled off her now ruined skirt and kicked it next to her hamper. Slipping
off her stockings and silk blouse, Claire rummaged around in her closet for
something slinky and sophisticated to wear. She chose a deep turquoise dress
with a scoop neck and slipped it over her head. She quickly pulled her hair
into a French twist and freshened her makeup. She added a pair of tear drop
silver earrings and slipped her feet into her favorite black peekaboo toe
heels. As she was spritzing on perfume, a knock sounded on her door.

Claire hurried to the door to let Darrin in. "Hi,
sweetheart. Right on time. I just need to grab my purse, and I'll be ready to
go."

"Claire, I'd like to talk to you,"
Darrin walked in and shut the door behind him.

"Uh...okay?  You sound serious. Let's go
into the living room." Claire thought he must be nervous and wanted to ask
her in private. Darrin wasn't a fan of public displays of affection. She sat
down on the couch. Instead of sitting next to her, Darrin sat in the chair. "What
did you want to talk about?"  She gave him an encouraging smile.

"This isn't easy for me. We've been seeing
each other for a while now.” Darrin cleared his throat and swallowed. "And
Claire, it's just...I've been seeing somebody else." He looked everywhere
but at her.

Shocked, Claire struggled to grasp what he had
just told her. "How long?"

"Does that really matter?  I mean, what
matters is that you and I aren't a good fit. You should just accept that it's
over.” Darrin finished stiffly. He started to stand up. 

"No. No, I don't think so. You don't come in
here and out of the blue tell me you've been seeing someone else and then walk
out the door. I'm sorry, but I deserve an explanation. No. Scratch that. I
demand an answer. We've been seeing each other for almost a year. I have gone
to all of your boring functions. I've been nice to your mother which is no easy
feat, let me tell you. That woman is a dragon from hell. I've smiled and
schmoozed everyone you told me to schmooze even when they were busy grabbing my
butt the minute your back was turned. So, you, Darrin Stanislowski, owe me a
freakin' explanation!"  Claire's voice had risen in volume. She was
so upset she was trembling. 

"It's not you, Claire. You've been great. You
are great. You and I together as a couple are not so great," Darrin said
calmly. His lack of emotion angered Claire. She felt her ears get hot. 

"Really?  It's not me?  How could
it not be me? You are dumping me on what has already been a horrible day!
 I deserve an explanation!"  Claire demanded angrily.

"I'm gay. Okay. Are you happy?" Darrin
yelled back at her. His words immediately dampened her anger. "I'm tired
of hiding who I am. I'm tired of using you to hide it. You deserve better. I
knew you were expecting a marriage proposal soon. It's not like you've been
subtle. I don't want to live a lie anymore. I'm planning on telling my friends
and family, but I felt you deserved to hear it from me first. I'm sorry, Claire.
I didn't mean to hurt you.” Darrin's unhappiness filled the room. 

"Wait. You're gay. Really?" Claire was
trying to process what he had just told her. "Are you actually seeing
someone or did you just say that to make it easier for me to hate you?"
She was trying to wrap her brain around the idea of the man she had been seeing
for the past year wasn't who she thought he was. 

"I've met someone. He's made me realize that
I don't have to live a lie. You would like him, Claire. He's funny and smart.
He makes me happy. I want someone to make you happy like that, too.” He gave
her a sad smile. "I am so sorry that I've been lying to you. I hope you'll
forgive me and we can be friends." 

"I just...I don't know. I mean, I'm just not
understanding how I didn't realize. Listen, can you just go now?  I want
to be by myself. I need to be alone. So please, just go." Claire wiped the
angry tears that had started to fall with the back of her hand.

"I understand. Claire, I really am
sorry." Darrin tried to give her a hug, but Claire shrugged him off. He
walked out of the apartment and shut the door quietly behind him.

Once he was gone, Claire sat back down on the sofa
and leaned her head back as she tried to accept what she just heard. Her
boyfriend of a year had just dumped her for a guy. She got laid off from the
only job she had ever held. She had less than a month's worth of savings in the
bank and a fifteen-year-old Subaru that was a crap shoot every day on whether
it would start. Claire felt a tickle on her cheek. She turned her head to see
Ginger sniffing her. She reached up and stroked the kitten's fuzzy head. "Well,
Ginger, looks like we've only got each other, girl. What are we going to
do?" Ginger leaped down on to Claire's lap and curled up to go to sleep. "You've
got exactly the right idea, girl." Claire kicked off her shoes and settled
back onto the couch to figure out her next move.

Claire awoke to kitten whiskers tickling her chin.
She gave Gingersnap a quick pat on the head and put her on the ground. A quick
glance at the clock and Claire realized she had slept through the night. It was
early morning and the sun was just peeking up over the city's skyline. She went
into her small kitchen and started a pot of coffee. She popped a bagel in the
toaster and searched through her fridge for cream cheese. Her refrigerator
shelves revealed a limp bunch of carrots next to a jar of olives but nothing
else. She settled on strawberry jam. Smearing the bagel with a large dollop of
jam and pouring a cup of coffee, Claire sat on the bar stool at her kitchen
counter. She opened her laptop and began to search the online help wanted ads. "Hmmmm...let's
see if we can find someplace looking for an out-of-work history major whose
only experience is writing advertisements for a pharmaceutical
company.” Claire tapped away at the keyboard. "Let's see...secretary
wanted. Must type 80 words per minute. That leaves me out.” Claire spent the
next hour browsing through job after job. She glumly realized she wasn't
qualified for most positions in the history field. She had dropped out of her
Master's program halfway through her second year when she landed the position
at Gaston Pharmaceuticals thanks to a referral from an ex-boyfriend who used to
work there. The money had been good and she had jumped at the opportunity. Now,
she found herself with no job, a useless degree and no prospects. She closed
her laptop and decided to call her mom.

    "Hi, Mom!  It's me,
Claire," Claire said with a false cheerfulness.

"You're up bright and early on a Saturday. What's
wrong?" Claire's mother, Mary, had a sixth sense when it came to her
children. 

"Well, let's see. I got laid off, found a
kitten, and Darrin dumped me for a guy," Claire declared in a
matter-of-fact tone. "Other than that, I'm good. And you?"

"Gracious!  I didn't expect all of that.
Let's back up. Start with losing your job," Mary said. Claire proceeded to
tell her mother all that transpired the day before. When she finished, her mom
was silent on the other end of the line.

"Mom, are you still there?" Claire
asked.

"Sorry, dear. I was just thinking about what
you said. The funniest thing happened the other day, and I haven't had a chance
to talk to you about it. I received a letter from the law firm handling your
Great Aunt Lily's estate. It's finally been settled and well, everything has been
left to me. It's not much, but she left her farm and a small yearly allowance
to operate it with the stipulation that it stay in the family. I would venture
to say that you have no savings and now that Darrin is out of the
picture, nothing to keep you in the city."

"I wouldn't say nothing. I have friends and a
life and..." Claire trailed off as it dawned on her what her mother
was suggesting. "Mom, are you suggesting I move to Aunt Lily's farm?
 In the country?  With cows and things?" 

"Why not?  The house and farm needed to
be sorted out and you could go for the short term while you figure out what you
want to do. Expensive shoes and a nice wardrobe can only carry you so far in
life. They certainly aren't going to pay your electric bill. Plus, you'd be helping
me out. I don't have time to go up there to go through the house until the end
of the school year. This is a win-win for you and me," Mary said
emphatically. Claire's mother was an elementary school teacher, and she was
used to having her directions followed. "Your father can't do it with his
busy practice. Your sister is up to her eyeballs in wedding plans and your
brother won't be back from Africa for at least three months. It makes
sense."

"Let me think about it. I mean, everything
just happened to me yesterday. I haven't even had time to sort it out in my
brain or see if I can even get another job. Besides, the only time I've been to
the country is the one time we visited Aunt Lily. I got stung by a bee and
swelled up like a puffer fish. It wasn't exactly a good experience. Cows and
chickens don't really hold any appeal for me." Claire shook her head at
her mom's suggestion. Claire living in the country in her Ferragamo boots. It
just wouldn't work.

"Well, don't think about it too long. Someone
needs to head up and get the keys from the attorney’s office and make sure the
house is still standing. It's my understanding that a neighbor has been taking
care of all of the animals and checking on the house. He's been kind enough to
do it for the past two months, but I am sure he doesn't want to continue
indefinitely. You could consider it a retreat. A chance to rethink the
direction of your life. Regroup.” Claire's father was a psychologist and
unfortunately, his psychobabble worked his way into his wife's vocabulary.