Mary, Just Mary Chapter Four

I woke with a jump back in my bed and in my pajamas. It was morning. Still pretty early; the clock on the wall said 6:15. My eyelids were droopy and my head felt heavier than the rest of my body, but I had struggled with sleep throughout the night and I knew it was a lost cause. Jake's voice haunted me in my sleep, and his kiss with Becky was a nightmare. I climbed out of bed and started walking downstairs. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the house, and once I reached the kitchen I saw Margie was busily making breakfast. She looked up when I walked in and smiled.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“Mhm,” I yawned.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not a wink.”

“There’s coffee ready if you want some.”

“Oh, I do,” I said emphatically. I got up and poured myself a cup, and took some milk from the refrigerator and sugar from the cupboard. I added just enough of both to my coffee and sat down for a sip. As I put the warm mug to my lips I thought of what Jake was doing. Getting up and ready for work? Eating breakfast? I wondered what he liked for breakfast. I wondered how he liked his coffee, if he even liked it. Did he have trouble sleeping too? Was he thinking about me?

Or…someone else?

“Margie, did Ronald start working for John Miller yet?” I asked.

“Sure did,” Margie replied.

“What’s he like?”

“Ronald said he’s very kind.”

“What about Becky? Did he say anything about her?”

“He said she’s…very quiet. She likes to watch things. She’ll sit outside watching the animals or watch cars go by--”

“Did he notice if John and Becky look…happy together?”

“He never mentioned it.”

“Oh.” I peered into my mug.

“Is there any reason in particular you’re worried about their marriage?”

“Um…well, I went to Jake’s house yesterday…and…Becky kissed him.”

“And you’re worried they’re a little more than friends?”

“Well, after what Mrs. Fickley said the neighbors say about her…”

“The neighbors seem to know a lot, don’t they? Just the other day I was out watering the garden plants and could hear some women next door talking about how Ronald gets drunk and beats me every night, and I had no idea! I am outraged! I thought he loved me more than that!” She slapped the spatula on the stove with mock indignation, and continued flipping eggs and pancakes. “Oh, and, I thought you should know, Mary, he’s fixing to get fresh with you as well. Be on your guard,” Margie said, winking at me.

I giggled, grateful that Margie was trying to cheer me up but part of me still felt the sting of jealousy. I wanted to believe Margie, but I couldn’t get the sight of Becky kissing Jake out of my head. They must have been very close, but a kiss? A hug would work just as well. Why not a hug? The thought was driving me mad. I took another sip of coffee and heard strong footfalls on the stairs and shuffling feet approach the dining room.

“Margaret, bring the paper inside,” Albert said. I frowned slightly. Margie was already busy making breakfast and Albert could get the paper himself. Margie of course didn’t argue, and she stepped away from the stove to grab the newspaper from outside. Albert sat down next to me and took my hand.

“Just think, my dear, in only 2 weeks we’ll be man and wife. And I’ll have the woman of my dreams always at my side,” I tried to smile, but when I couldn’t bring myself to a full grin I lifted the mug to my lips and took another sip of coffee. Albert brushed my hair from my face. His touch didn’t feel like anything.

“Mary, we have to figure out what we will do with your hair. Why don’t you want to go to the beauty parlor and have them cut it for you? Give it some style. It will make you look more grown up,” Albert said. I clutched my free hand around my hair.

“No! I don’t want to cut my hair! I like it the way it is!” I said.

“All right, dear, we’ll talk about it later,” Albert said. Margie came back in with the newspaper, and Albert started reading it. Margie started fixing up our plates. From upstairs I could hear moaning, and I saw Mrs. Fickley hobble into the kitchen, hunched over in pain.

“Are you all right, Mother?” Albert asked. He didn’t look up from his paper.

“Oh, curse these old bones,” she moaned. “Margaret! Get my pills!” Margie went to the cupboard on the far end of the kitchen, where Mrs. Fickley kept her medicine, and grabbed one of the bottles of pills. She opened the bottle, poured out two pills, and walked over to Mrs. Fickley. Mrs. Fickley snatched the entire bottle from her hand, and some of the pills spilled on the floor. “Ugh! Pick those up!” she snapped. She took four pills while Margie picked the rest up from the floor. Mrs. Fickley sat in the chair next to me, gratuitously rubbing the back of her neck and flinching. Margie put the pills back in the bottle and handed it to Mrs. Fickley. She glared at Margie.

“My food?” she asked impatiently. Margie gave a nod and hurried to the stove to bring Mrs. Fickley’s plate over.

"Honestly, that girl is as dense as she is clumsy,” Mrs. Fickley scoffed to Albert.

“Mhm,” Albert said inattentively.

Mrs. Fickley and Albert kept eating and reading the paper, but my appetite had vanished. I poked my food with my fork, pushing it around so it looked like I was eating. I still couldn’t stop thinking about Becky and Jake, and whatever their relationship was. I decided I had to find out if the rumors were true or not. But who could help me? I couldn’t just keep sneaking out, because I knew my luck would change eventually. I couldn’t risk Margie getting in trouble either.

I thought about it for a moment.

Louise!

It was perfect. Louise was my best friend. Surely she could keep a secret like this for me. I set down my fork and put on my most innocent expression.

“Mrs. Fickley?”

“Yes, Mary?”

“Well I was wondering, since it isn’t a good idea for me to have dinner with the Millers, what if I went to Louise’s house for the day instead?” I said.

“Finally, you’re talking sense, Mary. Francine’s daughter is a good young lady. You’d never catch her doing naughty things like that trollop Becky Miller.”

“Never,” I said, hiding my excited grin behind my coffee mug.

“I promised your mother I would keep you out of trouble while they were away. She’ll be glad to know everything is ready for the wedding when she and your father get here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked. I had completely forgotten about when my parents would arrive.

“Yes, dear, tomorrow is the first of July. Your parents will be here in time for the holiday, and they’ll be staying here until the wedding.”

Normally I was excited when my parents returned from their vacations, but all I could think about was going to the Millers and seeing once and for all what relationship Jake had with Becky. I excused myself from the table and went upstairs to change. I searched through my closet for the perfect dress, wondering which one Jake would like. Most of my clothes were either pink or blue. My parents liked it when I dressed in pink, but I always liked blue better.

I chose my favorite baby blue dress.

Waiting for the right time to leave was the hard part. I had to make sure things didn’t look suspicious. Once again, I was excited by the whole idea of being sneaky. I figured 3:00 would give me plenty of time to convince Louise to take me to the Millers before their dinner. Three o'clock was also when Mrs. Swartz and several of Mrs. Fickley’s other friends came over to play bridge. I set my plan into action.

“Mrs. Swartz, would it be all right if I stayed at your cabin with Louise for a while?”

“Of course, dear. Do you need a ride?” she asked.

“Um…”

“Not necessary, Francine, dear,” Mrs. Fickley said. She took out her little bell and rang it, which to me made no sense, because Margie was in the same room dusting. Margie walked over anyway.

“Yes, Ma’am?” she said timidly.

“Margaret, go get Gerald for me!” Mrs. Fickley said. I cringed. Mrs. Fickley’s old chauffer Gerald Elias was just as prudish and unpleasant as she was, and for some reason was sweet on her. He came into the room like a walking skeleton and tipped his dusty old hat to her.

“What can I do for you, Madam?” he asked.

“Take Mary to Francine’s house please. And make sure there are no detours. We wouldn’t want her to get…lost along the way,” Mrs. Fickley said.

“Yes, Madam.”

Riding with Mr. Elias was uncomfortable in the best of times. He was always dead silent, and didn’t play the radio. I was glad when the Swartz summer cabin appeared and Mr. Elias pulled into the driveway. A car I didn’t recognize was already parked. I wondered if somebody else was already over, or the Swartz’s had a new car I hadn’t seen yet.

I walked into the cabin. “Hello? Louise?” I called. I walked farther inside and could hear floorboards creaking upstairs. I climbed up the stairs in the cabin and saw the door to Louise’s room was open slightly.

“Dick, what if it breaks?”

”It won’t, just relax.”

I pushed the door open.

“Louise!”

“Mary!” Louise gasped, covering herself with the blankets from the bed. Richard was so surprised that he fell out of the bed. I covered my face with my hands and ran downstairs as quickly as I could, my cheeks blazing red with shock and embarrassment. Louise soon came downstairs, dressed in her frilly pink bathrobe. I could barely look her in the eye.

“Please, Mary, don’t tell my parents about this!” she begged.

“Wha—you—were you—”

“Please!”

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just nodded. Louise threw her arms around me and hugged me tight.

“Oh, thank you, Mary! I know my mother would have a heart attack if she found out about this! If there’s anything I can do for you, just say so!”

“Well…”

Louise didn’t ask me why I wanted to go to the Miller’s house after Mrs. Fickley said I was not allowed to. I guess she thought since I was keeping her secret, she could keep mine. The car ride seemed very long, and the only words that were spoken were my instructions on where to go. Richard concentrated on the road, his face and ears still bright red. Louise wrung her hands and kept her eyes down. I was relieved when I saw a large white house amidst farmland…and excited when I caught sight of a dusty red Ford.

“Do you need to be picked up?” Louise asked.

“No…no I can manage,” I said.

“A-all right,” Louise said. “Goodbye, Mary.”

The first thing I noticed when I came to the Miller’s house was all the sunflowers. Rows and rows of them, and they were so beautiful. Along with the sunflowers the garden had vegetables: cabbage in one row, cucumbers in another, beans, peas, and even some squash. Past the garden was a small pond with white ducks swimming and waddling, and scattered around the yard were chickens. I had never been to a farm before. My mother always thought they were dirty and smelled bad. There was dirt…and smell, but this farm was like a painting.

Becky was stepping daintily in between the rows of vegetables in the garden, watering them. She wore a simple housecleaning dress, and I walked over to her. She looked up as I got close.

“Hello, Mary,” she said.

“Hi, sorry I came early. I was having some trouble with getting a ride,” I said.

“It’s not a problem. I’m glad you could come.”

“Jake is here too?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes. He and Ronald are in the barn fixing a shelf that fell. Come with me.”

Becky and I walked over to the barn, and I tried to figure out just how I was going to ask her if she had any romantic feelings about Jake without sounding rude. Needless to say, I couldn’t think of a polite way to ask. All I could think of was small talk.

“The flowers are very pretty,” I said. “I’ve never seen real sunflowers before.”

“I love them. John’s mother did, too.”

“Is she here?”

“She passed away years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I never knew her, but…with the flowers around…I kind of feel like I can know a little bit about her.”

“How did you and John meet?”

Becky paused for a moment.

“It’s a long story. I guess you could say we were destined to be together.”

“You must be very happy with him.”

“I am. I’ve never been able to get very close to people before. But John…he’s my best friend.”

It seemed a little strange to me that Becky would call her own husband “her best friend.” It made me worry. I kept following Becky and we reached the big yellow barn out back near the fields. Ronald and Jake were inside, setting the shelf up on the wall. Ronald was up on a ladder using the hammer and nails, and Jake was standing on the ground surveying his work.

“That’s not straight,” Jake said.

“It is too straight,” Ronald replied.

“No, it looks crooked.”

“Maybe your head is crooked.”

I giggled. Jake turned his head towards me, and waved.

“Hi, Mary, you’re here early,” he said.

“Oh, um, I…wasn’t sure if I could get a ride here later,” I said. I looked at Ronald and waved. “Hello, Ronald!”

“Hello, Mary,” Ronald said.

“I’m going to finish watering the garden. Perhaps you two can talk for a bit,” Becky said. She gave a smile to Jake that made my jealousy flare up again. But my anger quickly cooled when Jake smiled at me. I wrapped my hand around his elbow and we walked around the Miller’s yard.

“You look really pretty today.”

“Thank you,” I said, swiveling my dress.

“Blue is my favorite color.”

“Really? Mine too!”

“Well, ain’t that funny.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

Jake rolled his eyes up and puckered his lips. “Hmm…I would have to say…cherry cobbler. You?”

“Oh, pancakes topped with fresh berries.”

“Ah, a breakfast lover.”

“Most important meal of the day!”

“Sure is.”

We walked past the garden again, and I saw John sitting on the fence next to Becky, who was still watering the plants. They were talking to each other but I couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. Suddenly, John grabbed Becky and lifted her in the air, and I could hear them both laughing. The sound of their laughter made all my fears go away. I began to suspect that what the neighbors had said wasn’t true at all. I could see their marriage was something precious, and they loved each other very much.

“Those two. They’re like teenagers,” Jake chuckled.

“I think it’s sweet,” I said.

“Yeah, it is pretty sweet.”

 It was entirely different from my relationship with Albert, but I had no inkling as to why. Becky leaned against John as they walked back to the house together. And I had never seen a look in a man’s eyes that was like John’s. His gaze was deep and tender when he looked at his wife, like she was the only woman he could see in the whole world. I felt jealous again, but this time, jealous of the way he looked at her and wishing that someone would look at me the same way. John called out “Come on, Jake!” and we walked toward their house together.

The inside of the Miller’s house was quaint and friendly. Their living room had a fireplace, a bookshelf, a radio, and a bunch of sofas and chairs that looked very cozy. It was less cluttered than Jake’s house, but not as fancy as Albert’s. Across the walls were several paintings: A butterfly, cute little ducklings, and beautiful flowers.

“What gorgeous paintings. Where did you buy them?” I asked.

“Didn’t buy them,” John replied. “Becky painted them herself.”

“You…you did?” I looked at Becky. She smiled and nodded. “Oh, that’s amazing! I wish I could paint like that!” I exclaimed.

“Thank you,” Becky murmured. I kept looking at the pictures. Along with the paintings, some photos hung on the wall. I looked at the row of photos. I saw a a wedding picture of John and Becky, one of a boy holding a fish, a young man in an army uniform, a picture of a family with two boys, and another picture of the same couple smiling and embracing.

"My father and mother…that’s their wedding picture,” John said, gesturing to the photo.

“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing at the young man in the army uniform.

“That’s my brother, Simon,” John said.

I was at first afraid to ask more, considering what happened when I asked about Matthew Thompson, but Jake gave me a little smile and nod as if to say “John’s brother is okay.”

“He’s in Texas right now getting some physical therapy,” John continued.

“For what?” I asked.

“Well, during the war, he was hit with some shrapnel, and it damaged his spinal cord so he couldn’t walk. A few months ago he got a letter in the mail from a doctor in Houston who was doing a study on paralysis from trauma. That doctor wants to help Simon walk again.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“So, is there any update on Charlie?” Jake asked.

“Who’s Charlie?” I asked.

“The doctor’s assistant,” John replied to me.

“The very testy doctor’s assistant,” Jake added.

“Well, last we talked Simon said that Charlie ‘has a soul, or something like one.’ I guess they’re getting along better,” John said. “Oh, Mary, come with me, I’d like you to meet my father.”

I followed John out back and we walked around the yard looking for his father.

“Dad?” John called.

“Over here!” a man’s voice replied. We walked past a huge oak tree and I saw an older man pounding a nail into a clothesline. John sighed heavily and walked to the man.

“Light activity, Dad,” John said.

“This is light,” Cade said, holding up the hammer. “Only weighs a few pounds.”

John scowled. “I told you I would take care of that clothesline.”

“I can’t just sit around the house all day,” his father continued.

“Well, you have to. You can’t be on your feet so much.”

“Agh, this bum ticker…but I’m still here so I guess I shouldn’t be complainin’,” John’s father said. He looked at me and smiled. “And who do we have here?”

“Hi, I’m Mary. Mary Ellen Baker,” I said.

“Cade Miller, miss. Pleasure to meet you. Will you be joining us for dinner?”

“Of course!”

A honking horn made me jump, and I turned and saw a blue coupe pulling into the Miller’s driveway. John smiled and walked over to the car, and I followed him to see who else had arrived. I was surprised to see Babs, the nice brown-haired woman I met at the market get out of the car with a skinny young man with shaggy hair.

“Hi, Johnny,” Babs said.

“Well, we’re not the first ones here for once!” the young man said when he saw me.

“Hi, Babs! I didn’t know you were coming!” I said.

“Good to see you again, baby,” Babs said. “You’re um…”

“Mary.”

“Mary! Of course, I remember. You were at the market.”

“I’m glad to see you again too. I wanted to apologize for what Mrs. Fickley said.”

“Oh, no worries, baby. That kind of thing I just let slide off my back. Whoosh.” Babs made a fluid motion with her hands, and I smiled. “This is my husband, Donnie.”

Donnie reached out his hand, and I shook it. “Solid, baby,” he crooned. I didn’t really know what that meant, but it sounded nice. Donnie clapped his hands together.

“Okay, dinner, I’m thinking fried chicken, mashed potatoes, do you guys have all that?” Donnie said.

“We should,” John said.

“Great, time to get to work,” Donnie said.

“You’re going to help cook?” I asked.

“Sure am. I know it’s like, against the law for men to step into a kitchen intending to do something other than eating, but hey, I gotta fight the system somehow! My passion happens to be cooking,” Donnie said.

“Donnie even made his specialty. Irish Crème truffles!” Babs said. Donnie pulled a tray out of the car and presented it with flamboyance.

“Do you mind if I help? I love cooking,” I said.

“If you can keep up,” Donnie said.

Donnie and I went back into the Miller’s house and into their kitchen, where Becky was already working on peeling the potatoes. Next to her was the chicken, some fresh corn, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, all sorts of things for a salad. Bowls and utensils were all lined up in a neat, tidy row. Donnie frowned and shook his head.

"No, no, this is all wrong. Where’s the tunes?” Donnie asked. Becky looked up at the window and turned on a small radio that sat on the sill. Donnie fiddled with the antenna until a radio station came in. He turned the volume up very loud.

I won’t dance

Don’t ask me

I won’t dance, madame with you

Donnie started to sing along, shuffling his feet as he rolled the chicken in the flour, walking backwards following the beat as he moved around the kitchen.

“My heart won’t let my feet do things they should do…you know what… Becky, you’re lovely…you know what, Mary, you’re so lovely!”

 I couldn’t do much besides laugh.

“Ladies, care to dance?” Donnie asked. Becky smiled and gently swayed with the music, but I tapped my feet and moved across the floor like Donnie did. “That’s it, that’s it! Ring-a-ding-ding!” he cheered at me.

“For heaven rest us, I am not asbestos!” I sang along.

 “Ah, Mary, you’re a blast!” Donnie said.

“Why thank you,” I grinned.

Donnie worked on the chicken while Becky worked on peeling the potatoes and putting the corn in the boiling pot. I made the salad, adding in just the right amount of dressing and for the perfect flavor. Before I knew it the food was finished. I was disappointed that the fun was over, but it worked up my appetite. Becky turned the volume down on the radio and pulled the corn out of the pot. Donnie started putting the fried chicken on a large plate. The table didn’t look like it was big enough for everyone.

"Hm, where will everyone sit?” I asked.

“Outside,” Becky said.

I glanced out the window and saw two big picnic tables. John’s father was already sitting down, and the others were starting to gather around. I took the salad bowl. The back door opened, and Jake came inside the house.

“You need some help?” he asked.

“Hold the door, will ya?” Donnie asked. Jake held the door open while he and Becky walked outside with the food. I followed behind them, smiling at Jake. My elbow brushed up against him as I walked out the door.

“Sorry,” I said.

“About what?” Jake murmured.

I blushed and looked down at the bowl. We walked over to the table, and the only two open seats left were right next to each other.

 So I sat next to Jake.

“How did you like cooking with Donnie, baby?” Babs asked me.

“Oh, it was a lot of fun!” I said.

“Mary’s got style in the kitchen, that’s for sure,” Donnie said. “So, Mary, you think it’s strange to meet a guy who cooks his own food?”

“Maybe a little,” I said.

“Hey, I cook my own food,” Jake said.

“And it’s a wonder you’re still alive,” Donnie retorted. Everyone but Jake laughed for a moment, then he joined in.

“I must say, I’m enjoying this dinner a lot more than that dinner I had with Albert’s new partners,” I said. “Mr. Moore and Mr. Ellis were—”

“Moore? Edwin Moore?” John asked icily.

“I don’t know his first name. Why?” I asked. The table quickly became quiet.

“John…” Becky murmured. She put her hand on her husband’s. He looked at her for a moment, then hung his head and stared at his plate.

“It’s nothing,” he said.

An awkward silence fell over the table as we ate. I wasn’t sure why John was so upset when I mentioned Mr. Moore, but it must have been very serious. The silence fortunately didn’t last long, because Ronald walked over from the barn carrying a toolbox a little while later. John quickly stood up.

“Oh, Ronald, I’m sorry I forgot you were still here,” John said.

“Too much garden smooching,” Jake chuckled.

“It’s all right. I just wanted to let you know I’m done with the shelves," Ronald said.

“Great, thank you. Come sit down and have something to eat," John said.

Ronald looked surprised. “Y-you sure?”

“Yes, please, grab a plate.” John gave Ronald his seat on the table, and he sat next to Becky, who scooted over so he could sit. I tried to make sense of everything. Mrs. Fickley insisted that these were bad people. All the neighbors said so. But I didn’t see anything about them that was bad. The Millers invited me and Ronald into their home, treated us like people they’ve been friends with for years, and didn’t make him feel like he was different. The family was wonderful. Becky was not a tramp or crazy, and Babs was just as nice as she was when I met her at the market. It seemed that the neighbors who knew everything really knew nothing at all. They knew nothing about John. About Becky. About Babs.

 And about Ronald.

If only he knew that there are some people who don’t think he’s the person everyone else says he is.

The rest of the dinner conversation was light and cheery, mostly. Cade asked about where I was from and why I was here in Sharon. The second question was harder to answer, but only because I was starting to wonder myself. I asked about John’s brother, which made Donnie a little tense, and talked a bit about Margie, which made Ronald relax. He seemed to become more and more comfortable with the Millers, and I did as well. I even started to hope that they and everyone else here could be my friends.

“Well, thank you for dinner. It was delicious,” Ronald said.

“Thank you for staying,” Becky said in her tender voice. “Please tell your wife she is also welcome here anytime.”

"Thank you.” Ronald got up from the table and started walking to his truck.

Then, it came to me, a stroke of brilliance.

“Ronald, wait,” I called. I got up from the table, completely forgetting to excuse myself, but I had an idea I didn’t want to lose. I pulled the beautiful gold ring Albert gave me off my finger. My engagement ring was more than enough for me, and I wanted to make Margie feel the same way I did. It was a symbol of Albert’s promise to me, and I wanted to share that very promise with her. Ronald walked back, and I placed the ring in his hand.

“What is this?”

“Give it to Margie. She deserves a beautiful ring.”

“Mary…I—I can’t accept this. I don’t want handouts, I want to earn money to buy a ring for her.”

“Trust me, you’ve earned it, and so much more. The world just doesn’t see it that way. Please, take it. And don’t say it was from me.”

Ronald stared at me for the longest time, then looked down at the ring. A gentle smile spread across his face, and he took the ring from my hand. I opened my arms to hug him, and he finally was willing to hug me back.

“You know, I stopped believing in miracles like these a long time ago. Thank you, Mary.”

“A miracle?” I whispered. For some reason, my favorite line from A Doll’s House came to mind: “the most wonderful thing of all.” At that moment, I realized what that thing, what that miracle was. Love. True love, not the kind of love one has for a pretty dress or a favorite food, but real, honest, compassion and respect for another person. Love that is free of selfishness. Love that gives people the ability to stand on equal ground with each other.

Love that makes a husband and wife partners.

Best friends.

Love that gives people the chance to make friends with people they otherwise would never have even given a moment's time to.

Love that transcends all barriers and rules the world has that keeps people apart.

Read this until you understand.

You don’t have to agree.

But you must understand.

“That was very nice.”

I looked back and saw Babs and Donnie walking up to their car.

“You are something else, Mary,” Babs said with a smile. “Need a ride?”

I hopped in the car with Babs and Donnie and we headed back to the Fickley house. Once we pulled on the street, I picked it out in no time. I could see the white panels, white shutters, dark wood porch, the dozens upon dozens of perfectly trimmed rosebushes.

With the sun dipping into the horizon to the west, the view was breathtaking. It was all so beautiful and completely flawless. My engagement ring cast a sparkle, and I looked down at it. At myself. My fingernails, trimmed and manicured, my hands, soft and gentle, my dress, folding over me like flower petals, my face, painted with cosmetics, my birthmark hidden underneath concealer and powder, my hair, long and blonde, locks straight from a storybook. For the first time in my life, I hated how pretty I looked.

“Something wrong?” Babs asked.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you for the ride.”

Babs and Donnie let me out and I stood outside for a moment.

Thinking.

Am I just another decoration? I wondered. A doll? Something to be played with?

Something that can never be taken seriously?

“Mary? What are you doing out here?” Albert asked.

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Oh, um, I was having dinner at Louise’s house.”

“Ah, good. Why don’t you come inside? It’s getting a little chilly out.”

I paused. “Albert?”

“Yes, my flower?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” He smiled and kissed my hand.

“But what do you love about me?

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Is that all?”

“Darling, you are my beautiful princess. Now, come.”

Meet My Sims!

Note: I have more characters in the stories, but I’m only mentioning these four because they’re the main characters of my two stories. My other sims have their own stories to tell, and I don’t want to be a spoiler!

Jake Harper

 Bio: Jake was the son of Sam, a jack-of-all trades who rode the rails during the Great Depression, and Abigail, a young middle-class woman who found Sam’s charm and handsome looks irresistible. Against her family’s wishes, Abby ran away with Sam and they traveled across the country together with only a little money but a lot of love. Sadly, Abby died giving birth to her and Sam’s only son, Jake. Bereft by the loss of his wife, and unsure if he could properly care for the baby, Sam returned to Abby’s home and tried to give Jake up to Abby’s sister, Agatha. However, Sam couldn’t bear to leave his son behind and he lived in Aggie’s home as a boarder until Jake was thirteen. Hoping to find a job in carpentry, Sam traveled south with his son and settled in a small town called Sharon located in Riverview County. While he couldn’t find a job as a carpenter, Sam fixed up an old house and, with Jake’s help, it became their home. While refurbishing the house, Sam was allowed to stay in the home of Cade Miller and his family, and Cade’s sons John and Simon became close friends with Jake. Tragedy struck a second time when Sam was killed by an armed robber when Jake was seventeen. Jake decided to become a police officer to find the man who murdered his father. Jake’s devotion to his job has left little time to pursue other interests, particularly the romantic kind, but he has just recently found out that love can come literally out of nowhere…

Personality: Jake is a good-natured guy who likes working with his hands. As a child he loved to take things apart to see how they worked and figuring out how to put them back together again. On his days off he will hunt around his house looking for something to fix, or just go to his workbench and start tinkering. He also enjoys music and has played the guitar since he was a teenager. On the job he tries to be fair to all the citizens of Sharon and he takes his job as a protector of the public very seriously.

Mary Ellen Baker

Bio: Mary is the daughter of Edward and Helen Baker, an affluent couple living in Vermont. The Bakers were among the few families that didn’t suffer from the effects of the Depression, and Mr. Baker’s shrewd investments in steel refinery gave them even more wealth during World War II. Mary was introduced to Albert Fickley during her debutante ball and the engagement was more or less arranged. She went along with whatever her parents decided, and later, with whatever Albert and his mother decided because she had always been told they knew better than she did. Mary never really thought the path she was taking could be wrong until she met a young, handsome, and charming police officer named Jake Harper…

Personality: Mary is a bubbly and friendly girl, but she’s also very naïve. She’s lived a very sheltered life and knows very little about the world around her. But she’s slowly beginning to replace her ignorance with curiosity. Mary enjoys shopping, watching TV, and listening to music, particularly Elvis, but her favorite pastime is cooking. She is somewhat restless and impetuous, and often times, a bit clumsy.


John Miller

Bio: John is the younger son of Cade Miller, a farmer who managed to pull through the depression without losing his land, but not without paying a far more terrible price. The entire family worked hard during these lean times, particularly Cade’s wife Sophia. Sophia fell ill with scarlet fever and died after she acquired pneumonia. Sophia’s death was a crushing blow to the family, but they did their best to hold together. John grew up to be like his father and worked alongside him as a farmer. His life was pretty ordinary until the sudden arrival of an old family friend, Babs Robinson, and her mysterious friend Becky Sullivan. Becky stayed in the Miller’s home for a few months and her reason for being there was unknown until her husband discovered her and flew into a murderous rage. John, having fallen in love with Becky, tried to protect her from him but was shot. The bullet barely missed John’s heart and the quick actions of Jake Harper saved both his and Becky’s lives. After a long court battle, John and Becky were able to marry and start a new life…

Personality: John is a kind, albeit somewhat awkward man around women, which stems from his fear of being close to them, a fear prompted by the loss of his mother. He loves the outdoors and his favorite hobbies include fishing, horseback riding, and hiking. He is generous and hardworking, rarely complaining about anything, which are traits he acquired from both his father and his mother.


Becky Miller

Bio: Becky was the daughter of Ruth and Philip Lange, born into near poverty and abandoned by her father when she was a baby. Ruth worked her hardest to provide for her daughter and she was Becky’s only friend for most of her young life. Becky met an art professor named Clark Sullivan when she was sixteen, and fell in love with him. Shortly after Becky turned seventeen, her mother, who spent most of her life in poor health, died from cancer. Becky and Clark got married fairly quickly and for a while Becky was happy with him, but Clark’s domineering personality took a turn for the worse. Clark became abusive, physically and emotionally, eventually cutting Becky off from the rest of the world. Becky endured the nightmare for five years until she finally decided to commit suicide. For some reason, she changed her mind and encountered a woman named Babs Robinson who, like Becky, was a victim of spousal abuse. Babs offered Becky a safe haven with friends in Riverview County, and she stayed with the Miller family to hide from her husband. Becky eventually fell in love with John Miller but her husband had not forgotten about her. Clark found her and dragged her into the woods. After beating and raping her, Clark was about to kill her but was stopped by Jake Harper. Becky braved the courtroom and, for the first time in her life, was able to stand up to Clark and file for divorce. After Clark was found guilty and sent to jail, Becky married John and hoped to start a family with him. But her happy ending has not happened yet, because doctors say she might never have children…

Personality: Becky is a quiet, reserved young woman who loves painting and can do it very well. When she’s not painting she likes to go outside and watch anything that catches her eye, be it a flock of birds, cars driving by on the road, or even the clouds. When she first came to the Miller’s house she was skittish and fearful, but her nervousness has dwindled. She is still shy and soft spoken, but is friendly and caring to both people she’s known for years and people she just met.

Tips on Writing a Good Sims Story!

Hello, all you who read my blog! I see this topic frequently on the TS3 forums...
"How do I write a good story?"
Since I have a little bit of expertise on this topic, I've been told eh, one or two times my stories are great =] so today's post is all about writing a good story. I will indulge in some very helpful strategies I myself use when I create my master work.

Tip #1: Read
In order to be a good writer, one must be an avid reader. Check out other stories on the forums and see what works and what doesn't. Reading can inspire you to write your own stories, for example, I based a lot of my story Mary, Just Mary on The Notebook (which I believe is painfully obvious). A book called The Watcher gave me the idea for the experiments in writing style I used with Becky's narrations in Love You to Death. Also by reading, you can find out what is popular and what isn't.

Tip #2: Make it New
Teen drama is a dime a dozen. So are stories about vampires, and people will get bored of something if they see the same thing over and over again. I find legacies, for example, notoriously predictable and I rarely read them. So to make it interesting, be creative. Put your characters in an unusual setting or have them encounter strange circumstances, or make your sims themselves a bit out of the ordinary. I once saw a blog that featured a "Wizard of Oz" themed legacy. And there is a reason Berrypie's stories are so popular, just look at her sims!

Tip #3: Draft
Once you write down your ideas for your story, take a step back and look things over. I constantly move paragraphs, switch the course of events in my story, and add/delete characters before I come up with a finished product. You might write something down one day and decide you hate it the next. Drafting also helps you catch any mistakes you might have made.

Tip #4: Get Feedback
It is extremely helpful to get other people's opinions on your story. Sometimes, what looks good to you might not look so good to other people. I feel extremely uncomfortable posting a story without having someone else look at it first. They might catch a hole in your plot, awkward spatial confusion, or other things you might have missed while drafting.

Tip #5: Mind Your Mechanics!
There are so many good stories out there that are spoiled by sentances such as: "So like I talked to Kyle in school, and I was all omg! Lyk wow!" I personally find it annoying when a story reads like a text message. Even if the subject is interesting, I usually don't continue reading. Having proper spelling and grammar will make you look professional, and all the more appealing.

I'm sure I could come up with dozens of more tips, but I think these five are the basics. They're the rules I myself live by, and they've served me well during my career as a writer. I hope you all find them to be helpful. God bless the writers!

Engaging Phase 1,
Cerulee

Moving!

A little FYI for the couple of people who view my blog...I guess you're reading my story or something...I'm working on moving the rest of them to Blogger because a couple of story ideas I have are a little on the graphic side, with some language and strong content, stuff that is too strong for EA's very restrictive censors. But it's a pain, so it will be a slow process =] lol.

My sims as RL actors: what do you think?

Since my story process has come to a screeching halt thanks to my PC's demise, right now I'm killing time trying to think of what to do with all this time.
Maybe study?  Bo-ring. :)
Anyway, I have been thinking about my stories becoming a movie someday, and I thought about who I would want cast in it.
For Jake, I picked Shawn Ashmore.

First reason: he's so gorgeous.  Mmm!
Second reason: he is well known for playing the "heroic" type.  Most of you probably know him from the X-men series.  And for those of you who know Nickelodeon old school, you might remember him from the Animorphs series.  I think he'd make a great Jake Harper.

For Mary Ellen, I picked Hilary Duff

First reason: she's sweet, wholesome, and very "Mary."
Second reason: I saw an episode of "Law and Order" with her in it, playing a very dramatic and controversial role.  While her strong points are funny, family-friendly comedies, I think she also shines in more serious contexts.  Mary, Just Mary is something I would like to be both funny and charming, as well as thought-provoking and serious.
Third Reason: she and Ashmore have performed together before in Cadet Kelly and in my opinion they compliment each other very well.

For John, I chose Shia LeBeouf

First Reason: Shia LeBeouf is one of the most versatile young actors I've seen.  He's done well in every film I've seen him in and has a lot of talent.
Second Reason: his past mirrors John's past in several ways.  He grew up poor in a single-parent household and had to struggle to get to where he is today.  I have a lot of respect for him and think he would be perfect for this role.

To add to this post, I'm bringing in Alyssa Milano as Babs.

She's one of my favorite actors, and was a lead role in one of my favorite TV shows, Charmed.  She can be sweet and tough at the same time, which is very important for Babs's character.

Anyway, those are the ideas I have so far.  I would love to know what you guys think.  Who would you pick to play Becky?  Margie?  Mrs. Fickley?

Love You to Death: Chapter 7

It's finally here, chapter 7 of Love You to Death! This was a fun story to write and I'm very happy with all the views and reccomendations. But a word of caution, this last chapter is very raw and has some strong language and mature themes, so I don't advise anyone who might be offended by either of those to continue reading. I'll put up an abridged version of this chapter on the Sims 3 exchange when possible.

John

I woke up at dawn. Becky was still asleep. She looked like one of the pale pink clouds that were hanging in the sky above the rising sun. I kissed her cheek and got up to get dressed, moving as slowly as I could so I didn't wake her. She moved her head slightly as I covered her with the blanket and got out of the bed. For a second I considered lying back down with her, holding her against my body until she woke up.

But I had work to do. My father would look for me, wondering why the cows weren’t being milked and the chickens weren’t being fed. He’d go in the living room, kitchen, bathroom, every room in the house and he’d look around outside for me for a few minutes before he remembered there was a beautiful woman in the house. He would deny that I would do anything with her to himself at first, then bolt up to this room like a runaway train. He would see us together, and explode into a rage that would shake the entire county. He would lay it on thick. Shame on me for bringing this sin into his godly house. For some reason I didn’t feel ashamed at all.

Why is it shameful that I love her?
I couldn’t believe what happened that night, the night I learned the pleasure of a woman. Everything I was trying to hold back went out of my control when said my name. My name. One month of silence and she said my name. You could have called me the happiest man in the world at that moment. I lightly kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her eyelashes...then our lips met.

“Oh, John…”

"I love you, Becky.”

As I did my chores I kept looking up at the house. My bedroom window. I imagined her sleeping, remembered how beautiful she looked, how soft her skin was, how wonderful it was to hear her whisper my name. It was hard to pay attention to the hose as I was filling the animals’ water. It overflowed and slopped mud all over my boots. I groaned and kicked the mud off my boots, and I could hear someone walking up behind me.

“John, I need to talk to you about something,” Dad said. His voice sounded very serious. I turned to face him, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.

“Uh…about what?”

“About Becky."

I tried to swallow the huge lump that was caught in my throat.

How did he find out? Oh, Lord, what if he heard everything!

Dad sat down on one of the rocks near the fence post. I sat next to him, trying not to look directly at him. I felt myself burning with guilt and embarrassment. But Dad didn’t yell at me, or lecture me, or even mention anything about last night.

If he knew, he’d never say.

“You know, everything that’s happened in the past month with Becky has really got me thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Well, I was thinking about how much I loved your mother. How much your brother loves Babs. And…”

How much I love Becky. I thought.

“And precious…precious time.”

I looked up at my father. He was staring into the fields ahead of us.

"I’m getting too old, John. I don’t have a lot of time left. Maybe if I had let my pain go a long time ago I could have gotten another chance. But there’s no use in looking at what could have been, but you should look at what can still be.”

“What are you getting at?” I asked.

“Son, are you gonna marry that girl or not?”

“I…”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to marry her more than anything. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, to have children with her, and fall asleep every night with her at my side. But I didn’t know if she wanted to marry me. If she believed that a marriage could be anything other than a prison.

I didn’t know if I could give her all the happiness she deserved.

Dad looked me square in the eye.

“Don’t let doubt get in the way of the time you could have together.”

He took my hand, and put something in it. I looked down, and saw it was my mother’s wedding ring. Before I could protest, Dad put his hand on my shoulder and walked away, leaving me along with my thoughts and the huge stretch of fields ahead of me.

“John!”
I got up and saw my brother pushing himself across the yard toward me, grinning at me with a mile-wide smile.
“What’s going on?” I asked.

“John…you won’t believe what Becky just did,” Simon said.

“What?”

“She said ‘hello’ to me! She said ‘hello!’ I knew she’d come around. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Actually Jake told me that.”

“Right. But I agreed.”

I saw something move near the front door of the house. Becky came outside, and walked to us. She was also smiling. Simon looked at her and grabbed her hand.

“Do it again!” he said excitedly.

“For Pete’s sake, she’s not a dog, Simon!” I said.

“It’s okay, John,” Becky said, giggling.

“Ha! It’s great! I gotta tell Dad!” Simon turned himself around and headed back toward the house. Becky took my hand. I looked down at her and smiled, but I saw a walking stick sitting on her dress.

“Oh, um, there’s a…”

Becky looked down and gasped. I quickly grabbed the bug and she smiled at me in relief. Just to tease her, I put the bug right on her face. She scrunched up her eyes, nose, mouth, everything. I laughed at that look on her face, it was both so funny and so dazzling. The bug took a few steps up her face, not really paying attention to Becky’s discomfort.

“Mm! Get it off!” she said.

“He’s friendly. He just wants to say hello,” I said.

“John, get it off!”

I gently picked up the walking stick and set it on the ground. Becky rubbed her face and gave me a playful glare. I started backing away from her, and she started running after me. We ran across the yard, past the chicken coop, scattering all the chickens, and she jumped on my back. Unfortunately, we were at the pond when this happened. I lost my balance, and we both went in the water. The ducks quacked angrily at us and burst into flight. Becky climbed back on me, soaked and giggling.

“Well, now look what you did!” I said, laughing.

“Serves you right,” Becky said. She climbed off my back and we got out of the water. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, and a cool wind blew right through our wet clothes. Becky shivered. I wrapped my arms around her.

"We should go back inside," I said. She took my hand, and we walked back to the house together. I put my other hand over my pocket, where the engagement ring was.

Becky

You have to tell him the truth.

What if Clark finds me what if he hurts John what if what if?

I stripped off my wet clothes and stared at myself in the mirror stared at my scars at my past. I was happy here I ran away from Clark I ran away from my old life but I couldn’t run forever.

If he found me I was dead I knew that for sure and he wouldn’t second guess ending the life of anyone who got in between me and him like Cade like Simon like John. Clark would break me if I left with him and he would break me if I didn’t but if I left if I left…

Nobody else would get hurt.
Cade
Simon
John
Forgive me.

My heart ached as I filled the suitcase it felt like I was already dying. I had to disappear again and all I wanted at that moment was to fade away to turn into the wind into the air into the still night a small echo that felt nothing that was nothing except a faint sound that vanished.

I heard a soft knock on the door.

“Becky?”

I ran to the door so John wouldn’t walk in and see my suitcase see that I was leaving. I didn’t want to see his heart breaking. I wiped the tears from my eyes and opened the door slightly. I kept my eyes on the floor I couldn’t look at him.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Would you come downstairs for a second? I want to talk to you about something.”

I told myself not to go. I told myself not to follow him downstairs not to hold his hand not to brush my cheek against his shoulder not to do anything that would change my mind about leaving him forever.

But I did.

“Becky, there’s something I want to say to you…well, something I want to ask you. I know we’ve only been together for a short time, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” John took my hand, and I felt light as air. He knelt down, and tears began to fill my eyes.

“John…” I whispered.

No don’t do this please don’t do this

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful engagement ring.

“Will you marry me?"

“Oh, John…I…” my voice trailed off. I had to tell him. I had to tell him everything.

John I would give anything to be able to marry you but I’m a liar I lied to you I’m so sorry I’m still married and my husband is out there looking for me I think he’s going to kill me I think he’s going to kill you I can’t stay I can’t let you get hurt please understand John I never meant for any of this to happen I love you I love you but

I love you, but…

The words wouldn’t come.

I looked away. I looked out the window. Something dark loomed behind the glass. I froze and stared at the ghastly figure it stared at me like a tiger at its prey like the angel of death like the rider of the pale horse. I wanted to scream I wanted to run I wanted to scream.

“He’s here.”

"Becky? What’s wrong?” John asked.

I blinked.

He was gone was he?

“Becky? Becky, are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know.”

John put the ring back in his pocket.”Was it too soon? I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel…um…why don’t you try getting some sleep? You’ll feel better in the—”

The door flew open BANG!

No! God, NO!

“What?” John jumped up and turned around. “Who the hell are you?”
“John, get out of here!” I screamed. John’s eyes instantly went to his rifle that always sat next to the back door, and he made a dash for it.

“Clark, don’t!”

“NO! Oh, God! John, no!” I screamed. I fell to my knees gasping in terror.

His dark, heavy boots pounded on the floor. I stared at John stared at the red spatter all over his shirt. I trembled as the boots came closer and closer. A cold stone hand wrapped around my arm that hand seemed strong enough to grate the flesh right off my bone. I stood shakily to my feet.

.

“Hello, my darling,” his voice was tender. He put his lips to my neck, and the gun to my back. “I’ve missed you.”

“Clark…”

“Oh, did you miss me? No…no, of course not. You’re too busy hiking your skirt up for him, aren’t you? Hm? What’s his name? John? Well, don’t worry, you’ll be back with him soon enough.”

I was going to die. I knew it for sure this time. Clark dragged me out of John’s house pushed me into his car drove like a madman through the back roads of Riverview County he was angry many times before but not like this not nearly like this. The only thing I could see were black trees raking the sky like thousands of claws. He was driving me right to the devil’s gates. He was going to take his gun and blow my head off and I would lie on the ground bleeding, bleeding, bleeding, like John my angel my fallen angel. The white wings were stained red with blood oh John he didn’t deserve to die like that. Clark shot him cold dead and it was all my fault. He died because of me. I was bad I disobeyed I was an evil night walking jezebel and I was going to burn, burn, burn for eternity.

He stopped the car in the darkest part of the night. He got out and pulled my door open, grasping my hair and dragging me outside. I couldn’t scream or cry. His grip hurt it hurt so much but no sound came from my mouth no tear from my eye.

“I tried to forgive you, Rebecca. I knew you were out there somewhere, and all I had to do was find you. I tried to forgive you, you ungrateful tramp! I gave you everything you needed and this is how you repay me? Screwing some other man? As if he’d ever want a sulky little bitch like you!” He pushed me to the ground he climbed on top of me he closed his hands around my thighs so I couldn't move he was holding me down like a clamp like a wild animal I couldn't move I couldn't get away.

“You’ll learn soon enough, Rebecca. You want to be a tramp, you’ll take it like a tramp!” I opened my mouth I still couldn’t scream. I know he wanted me to eat dirt I was filthy. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream. He got up when I was crushed and broken, pulling me to my knees.

He pointed the gun at me his face was fire rage hatred insanity death.

I heard a voice in the distance. It came from nowhere. It came from everywhere.

“Stop!”

Was it God?

"Police! Freeze! Drop your weapon!” the voice that came from nowhere and everywhere said. Clark turned, and I saw Jake Harper, John’s friend, holding his gun at Clark. Clark tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me to my feet and put the barrel of his gun to my head.

Am I gonna die?

Am I gonna live?
“Back off! I’ll shoot her!” Clark shouted.

“Put your gun down and let her go.”

“I said back off!"

“Okay, okay, look, I’m putting my gun down. See, I’m unarmed. Now, just let Becky come with me and you can go,” Jake put his gun on the grass. Clark stiffened as Jake slowly came closer to us. He started pushing me toward Jake and Jake reached for me. Clark’s arm jerked and he pointed the gun at Jake I yanked my arm away Jake struggled to wrench the gun away he twisted Clark’s arm until his hand fell limp the gun left his grip.

I collapsed on the gun I pointed it at Clark my hands trembled. Jake stared at me frozen in shock and Clark slowly approached me I backed away as he neared. My finger found the trigger squeeze it don’t squeeze it shoot him don’t shoot him shoot him.

“What do you think you’re gonna do, Rebecca?”

Shoot him.

BANG!
Clark screamed and clutched at his knee I felt like I was watching myself hold the gun pull the trigger I was watching myself about to kill Clark all I could feel was rage blinding rage.

“Becky! Stop!” Jake yelled.

I wanted him to die I wanted him to suffer I wanted him to know what I knew pain suffering agony.

Enough enough ENOUGH you will not make me your victim this time your life is mine this time YOU will burn YOU will bleed YOU will cry YOU will break YOU will YOU not ME.

“Becky, listen, I know you don’t really want to do this. You’re a good person. Put the gun down and I’ll take him in,” Jake finished calmly. I pointed my hand my quivering hand my quivering gun at Clark I wanted to I didn’t want to I wanted to I didn’t want to. I was a good person was I wasn’t I? I dropped my hand. Dropped the gun.

“Agh!” Clark roared. He jumped up at me and tried to grab me again, but Jake was quicker he tackled him to the ground. Jake pulled his arms behind his back and put the handcuffs on him. Clark struggled and glared at me that fiery enraged hateful insane glare but it was not going to kill me he was not going to kill me.

But he had already killed someone else he killed John I broke down in tears. I screamed I wailed I dropped to my knees again I pounded my fists into the ground I pulled up the grass and dirt I let everything out everything I had been holding back all this time so much pain. John was gone shot dead because of me. I loved him and I killed him. Jake walked Clark over to another police car that was pulling up behind his and he ran back over to me. Jake yelled my name he shook my shoulders but I screamed and screamed. John my love my true love he would never hold me again he would never kiss me again he would never hear me say his name again.

“Becky! Becky, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Jake asked.

“John…he killed John…” I sobbed.

“No, he didn’t. John’s alive. He took a though-and-through in the shoulder. He’s in the hospital right now,” Jake said. “Come on, I’ll take you there.”

Jake had to help me stand up because I couldn’t find the strength myself. I wanted to run I wanted to fly to John but Jake almost had to carry me to the car. The other police officers put Clark in the backseat of their car while I rode with Jake through the woods the siren blared but all I could hear all that existed were Jake’s words.

John’s alive. John’s alive.

“The whole squad was talking about you. They said you faked your own death and your husband was worried about you. Worried, right. Since John already told me about your scars, I just put two and two together. I’ve been keeping an eye on you both since then.” Jake explained to me on the way to the hospital.

“He told you Clark hurt me?” I asked.

“Not in those exact words. He asked what would happen if a woman was being beaten by her husband, what charges you can make against him. I told him not much would happen, even if she was covered head to toe in bruises and scars. I’m sorry, Becky, it’s gonna be impossible to prove he did anything to you. But he will go to jail for what he did to John. He’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s enough,” I said.

Jake and I ran into the hospital’s emergency room. He asked the receptionist where John was, and the woman behind the desk told us he was in the recovery room I didn’t want to wait for the elevator I ran up the stairs I ran I had to go to John I had to see him. The rooms sped by it felt like they were running past me and I was standing still I couldn’t go fast enough.

I stopped. I put my hand on the door it was open slightly I could hear them talking Simon and Cade Babs was in tears I peeked around the door. Jake came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.

“…you’re the luckiest idiot that ever walked the earth,” Simon said.

“This is all my fault! I should have told you everything to begin with…I didn’t think he’d find her, oh, I’m so stupid!” Babs cried.

“Well, if you happen to rescue another woman from her insane husband please warn us next time,” Simon said. “And to be honest, I wouldn’t expect any less of you.” He looked out the door in my direction I hid behind it and he waved at me.

No, not me. Just Jake.

“Hey, Jake! Thanks for helping out! You’re a real local hero!” Simon said.

“Ahem, helping out?” Jake asked.
“Don’t sell yourself short. You did great. Protect and serve!”

"Jake."

John.

“Is she okay?” John asked.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Jake suggested.

I walked into the room slowly. Simon and Cade and Babs and Jake watched me come in but my eyes were on John. He was okay he was alive it was a miracle. My heart was so full but it was no longer filled with fear, no longer filled with sorrow, it was filled with love with happiness. Real happiness.

“Hey, Simon, Cade, you guys want some coffee?” Jake asked.

“And donuts?” Simon asked.

“Sure,” Jake chuckled. They walked out the door, leaving me and John alone together. I walked over to him and sat down. I looked at his bandages, his arm in a sling and felt suddenly horrible so guilty that he was here in the hospital. He almost died because of me. I put my head on his hand and broke down crying sobbing trying to say I was sorry. I was so sorry for everything.

“I’m sorry.”

But I didn’t say that.

“I’m so sorry, Becky. I didn’t know what he was gonna do…if he was gonna try to shoot you so I just stayed down when he shot me. I wanted to stop him—”

“Wh-why are you apologizing?” I exploded. “This is my fault!” I couldn’t believe it, he was lying in a hospital bed after cheating death after Clark my husband shot him and he was apologizing to me. Clark followed me he was going to kill me, he almost killed John. It was my fault.

“No, it’s not. You know, all I could think about when your husband took you away was that he was going to kill you. I was afraid that I’d never see you again. I wanted to take a bullet right in my chest if it meant you could get away. I think…it wasn’t just a miracle that I survived this, and that you survived this. I think…the biggest miracle is the day we met."

I lifted my head up and rubbed the salty tears from my red face. I looked at John into his eyes, his soft warm eyes. I wanted to dive into them like pools of water and feel all of him surrounding me like when he smiled. When he kissed me. When we made love.

“I…I think so too,” I said. My hands trembled again. I looked over to the chair where his clothes were sitting. I shakily stood up and walked over to them. I reached inside the pocket of his overalls, feeling for the delicate and beautiful ring he tried to give me last night. I pulled it out and stared at it for a moment.

Do I deserve this

Do I deserve to be happy after everything I did?

I lied

I put his life in danger

Do I...
Enough.
I turned to John and walked back to him. I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. I wasn’t going to live like this anymore. He looked at me, then at my hand. I slowly opened it, and I placed the ring back in his hand. He looked torn. Wounded. It broke my heart to see his face like that. He looked away from me.

“Becky…I…understand if…you don’t want to marry me. I know you’ve been through a lot, and it’s going to take time for you to heal. But…if you ever change your mind, just remember that you’re the only one for me." I put my hand on his face, turning his head back to me. I leaned forward and kissed him.
“Ask me again,” I whispered in his ear.

The End

Welcome!

Welcome to the Blue Dragon Sims Blog! Here I will be posting on the progress of my stories along with any extra developments that come along with my story! If you've been following my stories, we're deep the the heart of the story Love You to Death, and I'm very excited about coming close to the conclusion of the story! Once this story is completed, I plan to continue writing, and I hope everyone plans to continue reading!