Forever Kind of Love (2 page)

Because I’m starting to own my “rebellious nature,”
a quote from the psycho shrink bitch, I decided to go as Sandy Olsen, Olivia
Newton-John’s character from “Grease.” Not the beginning of the movie but at
the end of the movie, where she’s the bad-ass-in-leather chick. To say Darla—I’ve
decided she no longer has the right to the title of mom—was upset would be a
huge understatement

She freaked out huge!
But,
whatever.
She couldn’t do a damned thing about it. And really, I was
properly clothed per the school guidelines (I had a copy handy), so her
argument was invalid. So I left her huffing and puffing like the big, bad wolf
from Little Red Riding Hood.
Too bad, so sad, Darla.

I get to school and got mass amounts of
compliments. Even had on a big wig like Olivia’s ‘
do
in the movie. I have black hair so it wouldn’t have worked and no way am I dying
or
doing anything to my hair to get it like hers. For
one, I doubt I could, this shit is straighter than a two-by-four and hates any
sort of curl to it.

Back on topic.
Damn, I’m all over the place. Taylor was there and, I swear to god we
are psychically link. He shows up as John Travolta’s character, Danny
Zuko
. Oh! My! God!

When I spotted him, all I could do was stare and
then he caught me looking and stared back. We both burst out laughing at the
same time. Fuck, it was great! We ended up hanging out most of the day, totally
playing up the characters of Danny and Sandy whenever we could. We got voted
best costumes and voted most convincing role-play at the assembly. It. Was.
Perfect!

And I was right, Diary. Taylor is the sweetest guy
around.

Teenager sitting on cloud nine.

****

December 20, 1994

Dear Diary,

Only a couple more days until Christmas break and
then I’m off to Trent’s place. Yes, he’s no longer entitled to a title either
and will never again be known as Dad to me. He gets me for the whole two weeks
of Christmas, since Darla is off to Mexico (may she get horrific diarrhea) to
party with her new, gag, beau, Marcel.

I keep telling her that Marcel is gay, but she’s
not listening. She claims he’s just a gentleman, unlike Trent. Well, she’s got
me there. Marcel is about six billion times better than Trent. But the dude
knows fashion a little
tooooooo
well, if you get my
drift.

Only, huge bummer, beyond getting
foisted on Trent and bimbo number three.
Yeah, he ditched the
bimbo from right after the divorce. Anyhow, the huge bummer is I won’t have a
chance to hang with Taylor. But it sounds like he’s got pretty amazing plans,
so I will be happy for him as I stew in my misery at Trent’s dump, aka my old
house.

Taylor’s off to Texas to see some relatives and
then over to L.A. to visit with a few more. He’s excited and I’m happy for him.
He deserves this, huge.

Oh! We’re friends now.
Ever since
our “Grease” moment, actually.
We’ve been hanging out, along with the
girls, and getting to know one another. He even showed me the entire tattoo
that goes from just above his left elbow, over his shoulder and then down his
back about halfway and over the front to cover his (biting my knuckle)
pec
. Yes, Diary, I got to see Taylor Granger’s chest.
Eeeeee
!

He’s leaving a little early for break, which is
fine by everyone, he’s a straight A student and so nice they could never deny
him taking a couple days off when we’re all doing shit all day anyway. But that
means I have to get him his gift tomorrow so I don’t forget. I just hope he
likes it and it’s not too much and, damn it, I don’t think I should have bought
it.

Until I figure out what I’m doing,

Teenager totally second guessing her gift choice
for the cute guy.

****

December 21, 1994

Dear Diary,

Just a quick entry.
He loved the gift! Said it was great and the best gift he could have
gotten. It really wasn’t much, just a really nice set of boxers since I may
have kind of accidentally overheard he wears boxers instead of briefs. I know,
it was a little personal, which is why I was freaking yesterday.

But he loved it and even kissed me on the cheek. I
am never washing my face again.
Ever.

Until I’m back from Trent’s hole of despair,

Teenager in love!

Chapter One

Dallas, Texas

January 4, 1995

Dear Diary,

Happy New Year, Diary!

Back in school and everyone is still buzzing from
all the holiday stuff. Saw the girls, Tina,
Cherise
,
Melanie and Nancy, in case you can’t recall, and we were all going on about our
Christmases and all the shit we got from the ‘rents. For me, Trent
overcompensated and went all out, burying me under gifts and shit. At least I
got everything I asked for, a nice change, given how he’s always scrimped until
now.

Tina was off in Whistler (that’s in Canada) with
her parents, a ski trip and she didn’t break anything. Yay! Nancy got to go to
her grandparents and spend endless hours playing cribbage and watching some
boring old-people shit on TV. Not so yay for her. Melanie stayed home and had a
grand old time. A bunch of her cousins came in, all older than us, and took her
out doing fun shit her parents would freak out about. And
Cherise
got conned into going out on a blind date. I know! Who the fuck does this shit
to a teenager? But, according to her mother, it’s the only way she’ll meet any
“nice” boys. Gag me with a spoon, already.

Didn’t get a chance to catch up with Taylor, but
did see him a couple of times and he smiled at me. Even threw me a wink during
the last class of the day, before he got stuck talking with the teacher about
something or other.

All in all, a pretty good day,

Life is looking good for this teenager!

****

Twenty years later -
Roni

“Happy fucking birthday to me.”
Damn it all
to
fucking hell and back again.
Why her?
And on her birthday, no less.

Sighing, she looked down at her smoking engine. That
couldn’t be good. It wasn’t the
radiator,
she’d
checked that just like she’d checked everything else on the car before she headed
out. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem. She’d just call up one of her many
friends and they’d come rescue her.
Except, she was on
vacation.

First one in too long.
Usually, she took a few extra days here and there around a weekend but
this time she’d said fuck it, and she took a whole two weeks. And, given she
didn’t have to visit with either of her parents this go around, since they were
off on their own
vacays
, she was doing what she
wanted.

After moving to Dallas out of college she’d started
her own life.
One where she wasn’t the buffer between her
bickering parents.
One where she wasn’t the poor sap that got stuck
telling whichever fling of theirs that they just weren’t interested anymore and
had moved on already, when they showed up at the door looking for them.
One where she wasn’t tossed house to house constantly.
That
one had sucked ass.

Not that she could have called either of them
anyway, even if she had been
back
home in New York.
Trent was off with his latest bimbo, a whopping twenty-one years old, in the
Alps somewhere doing who knew what. And Darla was off on some island somewhere,
cheating on her latest boy-toy with whatever guy threw her an interested look.

Not that they likely would have been any help,
anyway.

Ever since her parent’s, aka Darla and Trent, divorce
twenty years prior neither one of them had been what one would call a
responsible human being. Actually, even calling either of them human was a
fucking insult to humanity. They were two people that should never have
procreated, ever.

Yes, she knew how that sounded. She wouldn’t be
here, but really… They were morons only out for their own pleasure. They didn’t
fucking care about her or anyone else, all they cared about was themselves.
Narrow-minded morons with a fetish for younger companions.
Like they could ever recapture the youth they apparently lost when they married
after Trent knocked up Darla.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and called up AAA.
Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to salvage part of her day if they could get
her a tow quick enough.

If not, there was always tomorrow.
Hopefully.

****

Thirty-six minutes later a tow truck rolled up and
drew in front of her car. Not bad, actually.
Roni
had
been expecting it to take longer. The guy was young but seemed to know what he
was doing as he peered into her engine, before shutting the hood and hooking
her car up to the truck.

Climbing in next to him on the bench seat,
Roni
let out a breath. So far so good, day was looking like
it might be salvageable. She’d moved her massage to later while she’d waited,
so that was fine.

Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of the
shop. The young man, Bruce, she’d found out his name was, dropped her off in
front of the office and told her he’d get it into the shop for one of the guys
to look over. Sliding out, she grabbed her purse and hurried inside. The quicker
she found out the damage and cost, the quicker she could get on with her plans
of relaxing. Damn it.

Smiling at the receptionist, a pretty thing around
seventeen,
Roni
took the clipboard and filled out the
form with her info and the car’s info, too. Then the hair on her nape stood up
and she stilled, the feeling of being hunted sliding over her.

Lifting her head, she blinked and frowned, there
was nobody there.
Until she turned and saw him.
Taylor
Granger. Her first and only love, not that she’d ever told him, was standing in
a doorway between the office and the shop.

Wiping his hands on a rag, he had a pair of
overalls on, the arms and top wrapped and tied off around his waist, leaving
only a thin, tight t-shirt covering his massive chest. Holy mother of God, he’d
filled out good.

And he was checking her out. She’d filled out a bit,
too. Gone was the gangly teenager with more joints than grace. And her boobs
had filled in, too, finally, just after high school, so she had those going for
her. Unfortunately she’d also filled out in her hips and ass, making her curves
very noticeable and rounded. Feminine, she liked to say, even as her scale
yelled at her every morning that she was overweight.

Then his eyes lifted to finally meet her own, and
it was as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.
Roni
had serious trouble pulling in a breath as his pale-blue eyes met hers. Finally,
he blinked and she was able to draw air again, her starving lungs grateful for
the reprieve.

“Fancy meeting you here,
Roni
,”
he said. Holy hell, his voice! Deep, rumbly, and it went straight to her core,
making her vibrate better than any of her battery operated boyfriends.

“Taylor,” she greeted him, eternally pleased she
sounded like she had her shit together.
Because she most
definitely did not.
She was that giddy teenager again inside, but at
least externally she was pulling off the adult version of herself. “I didn’t
know you were living and working here now.”

“I figured I might as well. I’ve got some family in
the area that made the choice easy. I’m guessing that’s your car that just came
in,” he said, not a question.

“Yeah, she decided she didn’t want me going for a
massage today and keeled over to make me late.”

His lips curled, ever so slightly, and nodded.
“Come on back while I take a look and we’ll see what she’s up to.”

Handing the clipboard to the receptionist, who was
watching us avidly,
Roni
thanked her and then
followed Taylor out to the garage. Thankfully, she’d worn jeans, a t-shirt and
runners to go to her massage, because in heels she would have fallen on her ass,
given how wobbly her legs were.

They only got worse when he bent over her engine
compartment and the overalls cupped his damn fine ass. Fuck.

“All your fluids are topped up, I’m not seeing any
breaks in the lines and, right off, I’m not seeing any trouble with the
radiator, the battery, or the engine. Unfortunately, I think I’m going to have
to poke around for a little longer. Something is clearly not right. There’s a
leak coming from somewhere, but I can’t get an eye on it.”