Part Three

GC 

            “She’s right there!” said Ben, raising his hand towards a woman who was walking away from them.  Piper slapped his hand down.  Ben was already drunk, and quickly getting on her last nerve.  She hated weddings, for obvious reason, but the worse reason was that everyone was persistently asking them when they were going to walk down the aisle.

            “How do you know?  It’s just a random woman, for god’s sake, Ben, cut it out,” grumbled Piper, moving to their table and grabbing a drink.  Smiling sweetly at Vanessa, who was a few years younger than she was, and who was her photographer when she wrote stories for The News.  Vanessa was serving as the wedding photographer for the evening.  Vanessa was also gay, something that was almost unheard of in The Valley, but Vanessa was one of those people that didn’t care. Born in Gideon, Vanessa had gone away to art school and come back because this had been the only place she had ever called home.  Vanessa was gorgeous and happened to like women, people would have to learn to deal with that, that’s what she’d told Piper on many occasions.  Piper had met her the first week she’d been back in town, their editor had put them together on a story and their friendship had stuck.  Now, when Piper needed to talk, often Vanessa was the one she talked too.

            Vanessa now moved over to her, standing elbow to elbow with Piper. “So, how many have asked you?” asked the photographer.

            “Thirteen and that was before the ceremony, wait until they start to get drunk, I’ll be up to thirty in no time,” mumbled Piper, tossing a look at the bartender, wishing for another drink.  She knew that getting drunk was a bad idea, she had a harsh tongue to start with when people constantly antagonized her about getting married.  When drunk she was libel to say anything.  “I’m heading for another drink, want one?” asked Piper, smiling, revealing the deep dimples that rarely made an appearance.

            “Naw, but thank you so much for the offer,” smiled Vanessa sweetly.  Piper laughed, Vanessa loved to flirt with her, Ben always grumbled about it, but Piper didn’t care, Vanessa was a great friend and she didn’t care who she slept with.

            Ben had moved off with his old high school friends, one of them was mimicking some sexual act.  Piper sighed, happy to be heading the other way.

            Not paying attention, digging into her purse as she walked, she suddenly slammed into another moving warm body, spinning.  Without warning, she was cradled in someone’s arms, the world still spinning as a voice asked her, “You ok?”

            Blinking, looking up at her savior, she found it to be a smiling blonde holding her mere inches from the floor.  Piper’s blue eyes focused on the person holding her ever so gently.  Piper’s breath was caught in her throat, staring into the green eyes that stared back at her, her heart raged in her chest and it wasn’t because of the collision. 

            Righting her quickly, the blonde looked her over, and Piper felt the hot blush rising to her cheeks.  “I’m fine, I think, yes, I’m well, thank you,” stammered Piper.

            “Sorry about that, it was entirely my fault,” said the blonde with a lopsided grin.  She was young, and absolutely radiant, thought Piper, full lips that Piper wanted to reach out and touch, then she tore that thought from her mind and threw it away, where had that come from?  Clearing her throat and wondering where her voice had gone in that fleeting moment.

            “No, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” admitted Piper pulling her hand from her purse, rubbing her fingers together, feeling a stickiness to them, looking down stunned, wondering what was in her purse that would be sticky.

            “You’re bleeding,” said the blonde instantly taking her hand, a small cut in the inside of her pinky finger was spurting blood all over her dress.

            “Oh my god, I must have cut it on something in my… oh, shit.  Where is it?” said Piper in a soft panicked voice, already having forgotten her cut.  Her blue eyes searched the inside of the purse, and then gawked around on the floor.

            “What is it?” asked the blonde in a very calm voice.  Abby’s eyes washed over the stammering woman, finally placing her name in the archives of her mind, Piper Brady.  Abby remembered Piper from when she’d been a kid, Piper was a few years older than she was and would more than likely not remember who Abby was, not even a blip on the popular girls radar.

            “It’s a piece of glass, green and red… fuck,” grumbled Piper, her eyes darted to the floor, shaking her hand because the cut burned relentlessly. 

            Instantly, Abby’s gaze fell on the piece of glass, she knelt, picking it up, held it up to Piper, but first she rubbed the blood off. “Is this it?”

            “Yes, thank you,” said Piper, picking the glass from the inside of Abby’s hand.  Her voice was relieved, taking in a long breath to steady her nerves.  The glass warm in her hand as she gingerly closed her hand around it.

            “Let’s look at that finger, shall we?” said Abby not waiting for a yes or no.  Abby took Piper’s unhurt hand and led her to the bar.  Asking the bartender for a clean towel, peroxide and a band-aid, if he had any, he came back moments later with the items. 

            “So, there is a story behind the piece of glass, isn’t there?” asked Abby in a soft voice that exuded a trustful tone, making Piper swoon.  Piper swallowed, the soft touch of the woman distracting her, a shiver moved from the base of her spine to the back of her neck as the woman touched her hand.  Piper avoided her eyes, a sudden awkwardness rushed forth and washed over her. 

            Abby looked at the wound, dabbing it with the towel, letting it bleed, then dabbing it again.  It was a deep cut, but didn’t seem to require stitches, nor did it have any glass embedded in it.  All of these were good signs.  Piper’s hands were smooth and soft, and Abby saw that the tips of Piper’s fingers were used to typing, the pads were harder, and the nails were cut very short.

            “Yeah, there is,” admitted Piper with some reluctance after a few long moments of Abby holding her hand.  Piper found it hard to talk about, but for some reason, the blonde before her invoked trust.  “I found it when I was six, on the banks of the river, and my dad told me that it was a shard of heaven.  I don’t know why, it just how he was, always creating stories and things.  Made up this whole story about heaven and colored glass, said that was why there was stained glass in churches, to recreate heaven.  When God lost his son, he shattered the heavens in anger, raining the shards down on earth, and finding a piece was good luck.  So, I’ve always kept it, for luck.”

            “Lucky it didn’t cut off your finger,” smiled Abby, then she winked at Piper and Piper laughed.  Now, as they both sat on a stool in front of the bar, Abby took some peroxide and dripped it on the spots of blood that peppered the front of Piper’s dress.

            “HEY!  You’ll ruin it!” yelped Piper, trying to move away, but Abby caught her, standing close to her, a hand on her shoulder, pointing to the front of her dress. 

            “Trust me; I know how to get fresh blood out of clothing, it’s the peroxide or you can spit on it, the enzymes will break down the blood, but the peroxide will do the same thing.  See,” said Abby.  Getting up off the stool, Piper looked down, seeing that the blood was indeed fading from the light colored dress.  “I’d get some club soda or some water on there though, but it shouldn’t stain.”  Abby slipped the band-aid on expertly and said in a soft voice, “The bleeding has stopped.  Well, hope you have a nice night, Piper.” 

            Piper watched her walk away, hands slipping into the pockets of her black pants, and Piper thought for a minute, wondering who the woman had been, then whispering to herself, “I didn’t tell her my name….”

GC  

            “Mom, I’m going to go home, I’m tired – long flight – and my head is killing me,” said Abby to her mother.  It was a half-truth – it had been a long flight – but Abby wasn’t tired, nor was her head killing her.  She just wanted away from this odd ritual that some people insisted on putting themselves through.

            “See anyone you know?” asked the older Bishop woman.  The glint in her eye told Abby that her mother was hoping for that all elusive romantic connection. 

            Sighing, looking down at her feet, clad in black sneakers.   “Mom, quit playing the matchmaker, ok?”

            “Darling, all I want is for my only child to be happy,” said Denise, reaching up and patting Abby’s cheek. 

            Abby smiled, kissing the inside of her mother’s palm. “I am happy, mom, and I don’t need anyone to make me happier.”

            “I want grandchildren,” said her mother, wagging her finger at her.

            “Adopt one,” said Abby with the roll of her green eyes. “Now, good night, Mom.”

            “Good night,” said Denise, waving to Abby as she headed for the exit. 

Abby brushed passed a gaggle of men, all drunk, hearing a few whistles as she walked by.  It was something Abby was used to, if you’re blonde and have a moderately sexy body, you’re going to get whistled at.  Abby was both, as she walked outside, she found her car, getting in and driving first to her grandparents house.  Or rather, what was soon to be her home.  There was blue tarp draped across the roof where Cooper was cutting a hole for a skylight, a ladder laying on the porch, it looked like a house that was having work done.

            Getting out of the car, leaving the old Honda idling, the lights on, illuminating the porch that was, for all intents and purposes, her own, she walked up the stairs and stood on the porch.  Memories of times that Abby had sat there, reading books in the rain, drinking lemonade with her grandmother.  Her grandfather taking down Christmas lights in June, complaining, with a loving and beaming smile, that he’d have to put them up a few months later.

            Listening to the quiet of the night, hearing a chipmunk skittering up a nearby tree, Abby smiled. “Home, I’m finally home.”  Abby stood there for a long moment, taking that thought in, realizing that the first part of her dream was complete.  A pensive look washed over her face, eyes clouding over as her lips curled into a small sheltered smile.

            Yes, the dream of finally having a home, not an apartment, not a dorm room, or somewhere she knew she’d be leaving in six months, but a place where the roots set in and held tight, no matter what happened in life. 

            Going to her car, turning off the engine and snapping off the lights, the car door creaked closed and she leaned against the warm hood of the car.  Lost in thought, they centered around the huge leap she was taking in coming here, opening a practice right out of residency.  A child’s dream, a teenager’s passion and now an adult’s realization, all the same goal, now achieved.  It was almost overwhelming but all it did was bring a smile to Abby’s face.

            Walking again to the porch, sitting on the steps, elbows on her knees, cupping her almost angelic face, the waxy moon cast a sheltered glow down on Abby.  Abby’s thoughts drifted back to Piper.  Instant electricity had riffled through her when she’d seen Piper Brady from across the room.  Then the sultry voice telling its tale about a piece of glass that held had made Abby rethink her internal promise to stay away from women in Gideon’s Circle. 

            Abby remembered Piper, even if it wasn’t visa versa phenomenon.  Piper had always been one of the sexiest girls in town, now she was one of the sexiest women in town.  Something about the brown haired, blue eyed beauty with a lopsided smile made everyone notice her.  Even a girl who hadn’t known she was noticing girls.  That had been Abby.  Though she’d never spent time with Piper, Abby had always crushed on her from afar. 

            Sighing to herself, Abby stood, moving to her car and driving to her mother’s house.  There was to be no drama of that sort in Gideon, Abby resolved to herself.

GC 

            Piper helped Ben into the house – he stumbled over the threshold of the door.  “I’m thinking it’s our turn next,” said Ben, he slurred his words.  Piper wiped the spit from her cheek after he spoke.  Piper hated it when Ben drank, it wasn’t often, but when he did, it was like his filter was gone and he became the woman in the relationship.  All clingy and talking even more about marriage than usual.  This irked Piper more than anyone would ever know, why was it that couples had to get married?  Was it some law somewhere that if you fucked, you had to marry?  If so, it should have been abolished right along with slavery, which is what she sometimes thought marriage was.  You are mine and I am yours, couldn’t people simply be together without the formalities? 

            Piper sighed, she dumped Ben on the couch and walked to the kitchen, kicking off her high heel shoes, which she hated, and sat at the kitchen table.

            Tired, that is what Piper was, tired of the whole cat and mouse game.  Ben chased her and wanted to get married.  Piper ran away and said no.  She rested her head on the table, and listened to Ben muttering on the couch. 

            Crossing her arms and resting her chin on her hands, staring at the small candle that was sitting on the table, letting her eyes focus and unfocused, drawing pictures in her head with words.  Her true passion, it wasn’t Ben that was her true and loving passion, it was the truth, writing it, reporting it, telling it like it is.  Those thoughts filled her head until she drifted off to sleep.

            Half an hour later, Ben got up and went to the kitchen, kissing Piper’s head.  “Babe, wake up.”

            “Hmmmm,” moaned Piper wanting to stay inside of her dreamy world.  Ben knelt down, whispering in her ear, but Piper heard nothing, she was still dreaming.  It clung to her, beckoning her to stay there and enjoy whatever visions were dancing in her head.  Soft lips, blonde hair, hands that seemed to know just what to do were all playing a haphazard array of things to come in her mind.

            “Piper, you have to wake up,” he said, kissing her cheek.  Piper turned her head and Ben captured her lips.  Kissing for a moment and he smiled.  Piper was caught in the dream, kissing a softer pair of lips than the ones that were kissing her now. “Let’s go to bed.”

            Piper popped her eyes open, the voice not matching the lips of the dream.  Piper nodded, and she took his hand and followed him to the bedroom, not saying a word.

            Shedding her dress and settling down on her side of the bed.  Ben was asleep before she closed her eyes.  When she fell back into her now dreamless sleep, her thoughts drifted effortlessly to the stunning blonde woman.

Part Two

I am an over writer - I tend to write way to much, part of figuring out the plot and the characters - and since this is a rough draft, it is overwritten

looking

  

            “I didn’t see who it was,” grumbled Ben.  “She left before I could see who she was.  Damn it.  I hate thinking I know someone and can’t place a face with a name.”

            “You’re obsessed,” stated Piper.  She too thought the blonde looked familiar.  There had been a twinge of recognition when she’d looked at her, then again, maybe something more.

            “I am not,” said Ben.  He grunted.  He pointed his keys at the SUV and the door locks popped open.  “I just thought…”

            “Yeah, I know exactly what you, just thought.  She’s cute, but for goodness sakes she has to be at least ten years younger than you, Ben,” teased Piper. 

            She heaved her bag into the back of the SUV, and grabbed the keys from Ben’s hand as he put his own bag into the back of the SUV.

            “Come on, I’m not that old,” said Ben.  He slid into the passenger’s seat.  He pulled down the visor and looked at himself in the mirror.  Piper laughed.  “Am I that old?  I don’t have any gray hair, Piper.  I’m still vital.  Take me home and I’ll show you how young I am.”

            Piper started the SUV. “You are as old as I am, and I creak and pop when I do yoga, what does that tell you?” asked Piper.

            “Tells me that you shouldn’t do that yoda-yoga, you should practice some other type of physical exertion,” he said, “now take me home and we can go pop and creak together.”

            “Just means we are getting older.  The blonde was at least a few years younger than us.  Who knows, maybe you x-rayed her when she broke something, Ben you see hundreds of people a month.  A few faces are bound to ring a bell in that quick brain of yours,” said Piper.  She pulled out of the tight parking spot.  The blonde forgotten.

home

            “MOM!” yelled Abby as she barged into the house.   She left the door open.  She immediately rushed halfway up the stairs before her mother, who was below in the kitchen, answered her.

            “You’re late.”

            Her mother had an always calm voice.  She was never hurried.  Unlike Abby herself.  They were as different as could be: Abby had a flair for being dramatic, while her mother was quiet. 

Abby had always been very dual in her personalities, quiet at times and very loud at others.  Now, since college, the mouthy Abby made seldom appearances in her own life.  Reserved and withdrawn. Now, maybe it was the fresh air, maybe it was the fact that she was finally a doctor, but Abby was feeling alive for the first time in ages today.  Her career was finally coming together. 

            Abby stopped.  She back tracked three steps, leaned over the railing and met her mother’s gaze.  “I know.  I stopped at the Tastee Freeze, had a very good lobster roll.”

            “You live here now; you don’t have to stop there every time you pass by the place, Abby,” said Mrs. Bishop.  “I wonder how you were in school; you seem to be taking everything lightly at the moment, young lady.”

            “But, mom!  It’s sooooo good,” explained Abby.  She bounded up the stairs three at a time, thumping on them so hard that they creaked with each step.

            “Get dressed!” ordered Mrs. Bishop. 

            Abby darted back down.  She hung precariously over the railing again, her blonde hair falling into her green eyes. “Must I go?”

            “You must, your cousin, Claire, is getting married, and you well know that she wants you there.  Abby, the whole town is going to be there, for goodness sakes, get dressed.  I set out some clothes for you,” added her mother.  Denise wiped her hands on the dishtowel that was tucked in her back pocket.  Abby noted that her mother wasn’t yet dressed.

            “You….  Put…  Out…  My…  Clothes?” stammered Abby.

`           Abby had been gone for a long time, and having her mother treat her like a child wasn’t something she was accustom too.  Abby had grown up quickly when she’d gone away to college and her mother wasn’t used to Abby being an adult.  She thought of her like a child with a stethoscope, at least, that was how she felt at times.

            “I did, and I expect you to wear it,” said her mother as she mounted the stairs.  She graced the doorway of Abby’s room.  Abby met her mother’s matching eyes and she disappeared into the room she had claimed for her bedroom.

            She skidded to a stop.  There were times when Abby was so guarded that her own family didn’t know who she was.  That had come with college, the wall that she put up between herself and the world.  When she was playing doctor, she exuded calm proficiency, and skills that were unmatched.  Abby had been offered position after position, but had turned them all down to come back to the place where she’d always called home.

            Gideon was the larger town nestled between Riker’s Bend and Addison, it boasted the TV station and an office for the state newspaper.  It was lush county side, with the river to the east and the mountains to the west.  Riker’s Bend was to the north and Addison to the south.  Addison had the hospital and the sheriff’s department, and Riker’s Bend had the Hunter dynasty.

            Abby’s mother, Denise, was a native of the Tri-Valley where her mother’s modest house sat on the banks of the St. John River.  Denise had married Dennis Bishop, a young Air Force major, and after only ten months of marriage, Abby had been born. 

            Raised everywhere in the States and abroad, Abby had seen the world from a very early age.  She’d also been very intelligent, and by the age of sixteen had gathered enough credits to graduate high school early.  Her one passion in life, medicine, and at sixteen she’d begun premed at the University of San Diego, at the ripe young age of twenty-three she’d graduated the top of her class.  After seven years of internship and a short residency, Abby was coming back to fulfill her own dreams, coming to the one place on earth that had always been home to her, Gideon Circle.  She could very well have gone to the hospital in Addison, but she wanted a one-room practice, something virtually unheard of.  It was back to basics, that is just what Abby wanted out of life, going back to basics.

            It had been, in part, a promise to her grandparents and mostly about Abby wanting roots again after having been moved all her life.  She hadn’t had time in med school or premed to set down roots, so she’d set her mind on going back to Gideon.  It was a magical place in her mind, but every time she set foot in town, it lost its magic and became real, which is just what Abby wanted and needed.

            Her father had lived long enough to see her graduate from medical school, and her mother had then come home again.  Denise had been overseeing the remodeling of the old looming house that was at the very edge of town as Abby’s soon to be home and office.  It had once been Abby’s grandparent’s home, the home that had been the one true constant in the wandering girl’s life.  When her grandparents had died, it had been willed to her, and all the land that came with it, it was as if her grandparents had known Abby would want to go home.

            Every summer, no matter where they were in the world, Japan, Turkey, Texas or Hawaii, Abby had come to Gideon Circle for three weeks every summer.  Usually she’d kept her grandparent’s company, seldom venturing out to play or meet the other children of The Circle, relishing the company of her grandparents.  She’d help her grandfather build his sanctuary in the woods, called Mizpah.

            Now, thirty-something Abby stood in the small bedroom, filled with boxes of her clothes and precious belongings, staring at the bed, which held one piece of clothes, a yellowish dress.  Wrinkling her nose, cocked her head to the left, narrowing her eyes at the sight that was before her, “Mom?”

            “Yeah,” said her mother from the doorway.  Hands on her hips, which told Abby that her mother did, indeed, think she was going to be wearing this dress to her cousin’s wedding.

            Turning, Abby slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans, “I’m not wearing that.  You know, as well as I do, that I, Abby Bishop, do not wear dresses.”

            “It’s a wedding,” her mother stated, crossing her arms over her chest. 

            “I know, and I’ll wear something… fitting.”

            “You most certainly will, you’ll wear something proper, something befitting the new doctor in town, something like a dress,” smiled Denise.

            “I love you, Mom, I honestly do.  But, face it; your daughter doesn’t do dresses.  I could wear my scrubs?  Now, that would be befitting the doctor in town?  I have some with Scooby-Doo on them,” offered the smiling blonde. 

            A long sigh from her mother’s lips, “Whatever you wear, do it now, or we’ll be late…,” the older woman turned on her heels and marched out the door. 

            Abby watched her go, a smile on her lips as she began to rip into the many boxes of clothes that were still packed and waiting to be moved into her new home sometime soon. 

GC 

            “It was beautiful,” smiled Abby hugging her cousin, Claire.  The young woman giggled, her curly blonde hair tickling Abby’s nose as they hugged, kissing Claire’s cheek, Abby pulled away.

            Claire had always been Abby’s favorite cousin, they were close in age, different in looks and attitude, but they’d always gotten along wonderfully.

            “Isn’t he cute?” asked Claire thumbing towards her blushing groom.  “I adore him, I swear I want to start popping out babies as soon as humanly possible.”

            “Hmmm, he’s your type all right,” chuckled Abby, not offering up anything more than that. 

            “What is this get-up?” asked Claire, grabbing at Abby’s suspenders.  Claire snapped them against Abby’s chest and they both laughed.  Abby felt the hot blush on her cheeks, she smiled sheepishly and turned away.

Abby was dressed in perfectly pressed pants, something from Prada or some other name that Claire wouldn’t remember, a crisp white shirt, buttoned halfway up, revealing a ribbed white shirt underneath, suspenders off the side, finished off with a just big enough jacket.  Her blonde hair was up in a messy ponytail.

            “Looks like clothes.  I was told that wearing them to a wedding was a smart move, I was going to come naked…,” eluded Abby with a bright smile.

            “God, you are so city,” giggled Claire as she was being pulled away towards another circle of people who wanted to talk to the bride.  Claire wave with her fingers and Abby laughed, waving back.

            “I am,” beamed Abby.  Hoping she wasn’t to city for Gideon Circle.

            That had always been a concern of Abby’s – that she wasn’t going to adapt well to Gideon, even though, to her it was the only home she’d ever really known.

Introduction

I've been writing since the beginning of my life, my parents would routinely hide my crayons so that I wouldn't scribble on the walls, or any other surface of the house.  This isn't mean to be an overly serious blog, if anything, a place where feedback can be given.  I'm attempting to craft a new story - one without murder or death.  A stretch for me I can assure you.  The name of my newest piece is Where Life Takes You.  Set in a small town in anywhere USA.  It is a compilation piece to my other almost-finished novel, The Girls Next Door.  

abby

            Flying. 

            It most certainly wasn’t her favorite thing on earth to do, she actually hated it, yet to get from one place to another, it was an evil she had to endure.  If anything, Dr. Abigail ‘Abby’ Bishop’s favorite thing to do in life was get her hands dirty in a nasty trauma.  It was like a day at the beach for her, but better, with blood.  Or drive her car fast; listen to music so loud that her teeth chattered, those were the things that Abby loved.  Flying wasn’t on that very long list. 

            She sank deeper into her seat, having flown from Los Angeles to New York, then jumping a flight from New York to Boston because her other flight had been cancelled.  Now she was on an eight-seater, heading into Gideon’s very small airport.  She slipped her Oakley sunglasses on and then jammed her iPod ear buds into her ears.  Abby tried to relax, finally nodding off after a few minutes.  One of the benefits of being a doctor was being able to sleep anywhere.

piper

           

            Piper Brady was scribbling in a small notebook that she always carried around just in case she had a thought or a story came her way.  She nudged her on and off boyfriend since high school, Benjamin  Dionne.  “What are you staring at?” asked Piper.  He kept glancing back towards the rear of the plan.

            “That girl back there, she looks familiar and I’m trying to place her, do you know who she is?” he asked Piper in his always-quiet voice.

            Tucking a strand of her brown wayward hair behind her ear, Piper’s blue eyes darted to her left, seeing an athletic woman curled up on her small seat.  Sunglasses hid her face, her blonde hair tussled and her full lips seemed to be relaxed and pouty.  “How should I know?”

            “Doesn’t she look… familiar?” asked Ben.  He looked over his shoulder again.  Piper slapped his knee.  Ben looked back at her.  “I was looking… Geez, Piper.”

            “I saw how you were looking, hmmm…. Think we’ll be late?  For the wedding and all?”

            “We have hours, why do you worry about things like that?  It’s not like it’s our wedding,” said Ben.    

            It was a sour point in their long relationship.  Ben wanted to get married.  He’d wanted to get married directly after high school.  Piper had bulked, not something that most girls from Gideon did, refuse a marriage proposal.  Piper had wanted to go to Boston University to major in journalism.  With some reluctance, Ben had stayed behind.  He had gone to the Addison Community College and had forged a career as a radiologist because Ben wasn’t about to leave Gideon.  He was a homegrown boy who was  rooted in place.  They had kept their relationship alive, with long phone calls and frequent visits.  When Piper had then moved to Vermont, living in Burlington at first, getting her feet wet in the newspaper business with the Vermont Daily News, Ben had assumed that they’d marry as soon as she’d graduated.  He’d assumed wrong.  Piper hadn’t jumped at the proposal, instead she’d broken up with him.   

            When Piper’s mother had gotten sick Piper had ventured back to the smaller town of Gideon to take care of her ailing mother, she and Ben had resumed their relationship with some trepidation, now, three years later – they were still unmarried.

            “Why would you want to ruin a good thing?” repeated Piper for the umpteenth time in the last three years.  He was handsome, smart, and funny, absolutely one of the nicest people she’d ever met, yet she didn’t feel the need to marry him to keep him.  “We’re virtually married anyway,” added Piper.

            “See this?” he said, wiggling his left hand, “This is not virtually married, this is me, with no wedding band on.”

            “You are such a woman, god, Ben you’re a woman.  Cut it out,” growled Piper.  Weddings drove Piper insane because people continually asked them when they would be getting married.