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At Last
At Last
At Last
Ebook110 pages1 hour

At Last

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“At Last” picks up where “These Foolish Things” leaves off. It seems like Liz and Ty have earned "happily ever after," but will they get it? 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 14, 2014
ISBN9781311999290
At Last
Author

Susan Thatcher

Susan Thatcher was born in New Hampshire and raised in Vermont, graduating from the University of Vermont (including a stint in Salisbury, South Australia as an exchange student starting in January 1982. She hates winter that much). She contributed occasional articles to UVM's newspaper, the Vermont Cynic. Susan has also contributed to Morning Edition on NPR (they read her letter on the air.), the Boca Raton News and www.dognewsteam.com, a news parody website. Susan also earned a Juris Doctor from Franklin Pierce Law Center.  She is adding to the story of "These Foolish Things" and "At Last" and writing other stories (different genres)as well. Life has led her to reside in Florida. No snow; works for her.

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    Book preview

    At Last - Susan Thatcher

    At Last

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    At Last

    By Susan Thatcher

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    A Novel

    By Susan Thatcher

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright © 2013 by Susan Thatcher

    All Rights Reserved.

    Dedicated to

    Diane M Chubb, Esq.

    Thanks for picking up Kurly’s kicking boot and keeping me going.

    Chapter 1

    ––––––––

    Hey, Liz. Honey, what’s this?

    Liz looked over to where Ty was sifting through a cardboard box from the back of the spare room’s closet. He was holding a rather battered-looking book.

    I’m not sure. Let me see. She crossed the room, picking her way around other cartons. As she reached Ty, he handed her the book.It was one of those blank journals you find in a bookstore, except that the pages in this one were filled with Liz’s handwriting and sketches. She leafed through quickly, scanning the entries. Ty looked on with her. Liz flipped back to the first page to confirm her identification.

    It’s The Baldie Chronicles, she said.

    Ty looked at her. Baldie Chronicles?

    She nodded. Uh huh. This is my breast cancer journal. I started it the day I got the diagnosis and it ends with the all-clear and end of chemo. She looked at Ty. I lost all my hair, so I called it The Baldie Chronicles. See? She held up a braid of hair that had been pressed between pages.

    Kind of a Yul Brynner look? Ty asked as he touched her hair.

    Liz smiled, "Sweetheart, when I say I lost all my hair, I mean all my hair."

    All your hair, He repeated, not quite understanding.

    "All of my hair," she emphasized.

    Understanding dawned on Ty. All of it? he asked incredulously.

    Every last strand from head to toe, she said. No shaving, no bikini waxes, which was an upside, no money spent on shampoo, mousse or hairspray, but no eyelashes, either. You learn to appreciate how well they work when you don’t have them.

    Ty took the journal from her. What did you plan to do with it? He leafed through a couple of pages.

    Liz winced. When I finished it, I thought someone might want to publish it. My favorite rejection was the note that someone had written on the manuscript. ‘Cancer: too much of a downer’.

    Ty glanced into the box the journal had come from. Idiot. Looks like a bunch of notebooks. More of the same? He squatted down to better examine the box’s contents.

    I imagine so, Liz knelt beside him and they quickly sorted through the box.

    How come I’ve never seen these? asked Ty.

    See that fat manila envelope on the top? Liz replied, That’s my collection of rejection letters. I wrote these things and nobody wanted them. So, I threw them in the back of the closet. They went into storage when I moved to Wellesley and I returned them to their place of honor, this with a wry inflection in her voice, when I moved back.

    Liz looked pensively at the box. You know, I think it may be time to let go. I tried to get published, no takers. Pitch it.

    May I have it? Ty asked. He still held The Baldie Chronicles. I’d like to read them. He leaned over and kissed Liz’s cheek. Call it a wedding gift, he said lovingly.

    Liz smiled, Well, it’s not like I have a line of takers wrapped around the block. Be my guest. You may end up using them to start the barbecue.

    Ty chuckled. I’m willing to risk it. Of course, the Adirondack chair is kind of wobbly. He held up a book and pretended to examine its dimensions closely. This looks like it’ll prop up the short leg pretty nicely.

    He stood up and offered his hand to Liz. As she stood up, Liz was hit with nausea and dizziness. Ty caught her as she swayed and held her close.

    Whoa! Gotcha! Hold on! he said.

    She wrapped her arms around him and leaned against him while waiting for her head to stop swimming and the mild queasiness to pass. Ty stroked her hair.

    You know, Liz, you probably should have had some breakfast this morning. Here, He sat down with his back against the wall, holding her close the entire time. Liz was feeling better, but she wasn’t about to let go of Ty.

    You know, she said, I’m likely to do that again when we stand.

    And I’ll catch you again, Ty said. He rubbed his cheek against hers. Why don’t I take you home and let you rest? You’ve got enough manpower here. Let the guys do the work. Obviously, you’re coming down with something.

    Joey DiNardo stuck his head in the door. Just great. John and Rocco and Tony and I are bustin’ our humps down here, on your behalf and the two of you are just sitting up there, making out. His grin took the sting out the complaint.

    Joe, she fainted, Ty told him.

    Guys, I’m fine, Liz said. She tried to push away from Ty, but he just tightened his grip.

    Joey looked concerned. "Liz, you do look kinda green around the gills. Sure it’s not because you’re marrying him?"

    Up yours, Joseph, Liz retorted, "I’d only be sick to my stomach if I had to marry you."

    Children, children, Ty admonished, play nice. Don’t make me tell Angie on the two of you. Seriously, Joe, he continued, I don’t think she should be working so hard.

    Joey squatted down to take a good look. Okay. You sit, Liz. Ty, you take care of her. We’ll work. He headed downstairs again.

    Liz stayed cuddled against Ty, eyes closed. It helped her head feel clearer to stay like that. And she loved snuggling next to his heart, listening to it beat. As she sat there, Liz made a decision: I think it might be time to give you something else, she said.

    But I haven’t given you anything, Ty protested, and you had that punching bag installed in the basement this week.

    That, my friend, is for my own peace of mind. Take out your aggressions on that and not the drywall. No studs to break your hand on, Liz said with a smile. Actually, you’ve already given me a gift. I was going to wait until tonight, but now seems like the right time for this other one. She tried to rise, only to be held back. Liz tried harder to stand up and Ty stopped her again. He’d been rowing every day and it showed.

    She gave up. You’re not going to let me stand, are you?

    Nope.

    Fine. Would you please get my purse for me? she asked. I promise I’ll stay right here.

    Ty carefully shifted her onto the floor and left in search of her bag. While he was gone, Liz reflected on where they stood.Today was moving day for Liz. They had chosen a beautiful old colonial house in Marblehead with multiple bedrooms, a big yard and a view of Salem across the harbor. In the three months since their engagement, Ty and Liz had stayed in their separate homes on weekdays with Ty coming to Salem on weekends. At first. Within a couple of weeks, Ty just started staying in Salem full-time.

    They had negotiated a wedding date, settling on one just two weeks from this day. Ty had cut back his workload at Brooks, Washburn. His partners at the firm had agreed, mostly because he’d given them the choice of allowing him to ease up or he’d find another firm willing to give him what he wanted in exchange for his clients. Bill Brooks had thrown his full support behind Ty. Norton and Dodger were growing rapidly. At five months, they weighed as much as some fully-grown cats. Liz frequently woke to the sight of one cat using Ty’s head as a pillow and the other sleeping on Ty, stretched out to his fullest length and blissful. Ty seemed to like the arrangement, too.

    Right now, the boys were at the vet clinic to get them out from underfoot and for the appointment. When Liz mentioned getting the cats neutered, Ty had opposed it.

    "Ty, I really don’t want to

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