Candidate: A Love Story (36 page)

When she was done she handed the box to Grady, who did the same thing—folded his paper and poured a bowl of Lucky Charms. Kate couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, what’s going on? What is this?” She looked at Reagan. “You don’t eat Lucky Charms.”

“I do now, honey. Must be the baby. Are you going to eat?”

Kate looked at Grady, who was across from her eating Lucky Charms. “Grady, what’s going on? Why are you—”

Grady picked up the box of Fruit Loops and handed it to her. The look on his face was so comfortable. Kate bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, to keep from babbling that she was so sorry, but she was so proud of him too. That she understood, but she missed him. She wanted to tell him that she just bought this great new mirror and hung it in the entryway to her apartment. She wanted to say so many things, but nothing came out.

“Pour some cereal, Kate,” he said, smiling at her as if they had just woken up together and were sitting around the kitchen table. As if it were just the most natural thing in the world.

Kate looked at Reagan, who looked like she was about to cry, and Ben, who had his face buried in his cereal.

Kate opened the flap of the Fruit Loops and poured some into her bowl. Something hit the bowl with a thud, and when Kate looked down, there among the rainbow rings was a red and gold box sitting in her cereal bowl. A red and gold ring box. She touched the box, and by the time she looked up, Grady was on his knee next to her, Reagan was crying, and Ben was trying to calm Reagan down.

Kate was now certain this was a dream. It played like one. People she recognized from her life, but all mixed up and in different places. Most of her dreams were that way. In what real world was Grady Malendar kneeling on a kitchen floor in his pajama bottoms?

He reached into her cereal bowl, took out the box, and opened it.

Kate was pretty sure that’s when she stopped breathing. The ring looked antique. A thin band with tiny diamonds and a large square diamond in the center that looked like a royal pin cushion.

“Katherine Galloway.”

Kate looked at him and he took her hand.

“I need you in my life, real and completely unreal. I’m sorry that I blamed you. I didn’t know how to have a real life, didn’t know I was allowed, until I met you. You’re my protector and I want to be yours. We sort of rescue each other.”

Kate started to cry as Grady continued.

“I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life eating Fruit Loops with you and doing laundry on Friday nights.”

Kate laughed through her tears and mouthed that she loved him too.

“Please, forgive me for being stupid and marry me.”

Kate nodded her head, and when she could finally take a breath, she said, “Yes!”

Grady slipped the ring on her finger, stood up, and pulled Kate into his arms. Kate turned to see if Reagan and Ben were still there, but they had gone. Grady put a finger under her chin and turned her to face him. He wiped some of the tears from her cheeks.

“No one is watching us, Kate. Just you and me.”

She started to cry again, and just before it seemed like he might too, he said, “That’s Nana’s ring. She would have loved you.”

“Because I’m such a straight shooter?” Kate asked through watery eyes.

“Eh, you’re a bit of a fox in the hen house, but she would have loved that too.”

Kate rolled her eyes and laughed. “Honestly, how many of these phrases did she have?”

Grady looked into her eyes and she saw everything she would ever need, as he said, “You will have a lifetime to find out.”

Neither of them was the most likely candidate for love. But standing in her friend’s kitchen, with Fruit Loops, wearing his Nana’s ring, and kissing the man she loved, Kate knew Grady was her person. He made her feel. They had opened the window, pulled each other into the light, and it didn’t get any better than that.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank:

 

Barb Froman and Barb Vitelli for reading, sharing, and supporting my work.

Katie McCoach for reining in my manic points of view and for being a joyful positive force.

Phyllis Stern for helping me with my “drinking problem” and making sure we had a campaign and not champagne.

My family for putting up with my closed door, imaginary friends, and often absent mind.

Tracy Ewens was born in San Francisco and enjoys traveling to far-off places—both around the globe and in her mind.

She believes television is highly overrated and almost anything worth saying has come from either Anna Quindlen or Robert Fulghum.

Candidate
is her third novel, and the second in her
A Love Story
Series. Tracy lives with her husband and three children in New River, Arizona.

 

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