Meeting Prince Charming

Let fairy tale...ur story begin. We meet our leading lady.

 

The heat in my apartment was making it hard to concentrate. The air conditioning was out once again, even though they fixed it last month. Staring at my text book, I drug my hand across my forehead, wiping away the sweat. Sounds of laughing and splashing water pulled my attention once more to gaze longingly out my open window. My neighbors, I knew, were surviving the heat at the pool.

Ten in the morning and already it was a sizzling ninety-five degrees. Days like today I missed home. Ohio’s high today was predicted to be a cool seventy-nine.

Attempting to refocus, I returned my eyes to the page before me. The figures, however, still meant nothing to me. If there is one thing you should know about me it is that I HATE math. Wait…Wait did I introduce myself? Sorry. The heat must’ve really fried my brain.

My name is Abby…Abigail Stenton, originally from a small town in Ohio. The name doesn’t matter, as the place is so tiny you definitely haven’t heard of it. To escape my parents – town jokes that they were…What the hell did the town know any way? They didn’t have to live with those drunken, abusive excuses for parents – I buried myself in my school work. Each day I prayed that my efforts would land me, my ticket out of my constant hell, a scholarship. God was obviously listening as I begged, because here I am the end of my freshman year at UCLA.

Thanks to my blonde nature – okay dishwater blonde technically, which means I’m only a ditz occasionally – I’m sitting at my second hand Formica table trying to concentrate. If only I had completely read the form for housing before sending it in. Then maybe, just maybe I would be in a nice air conditioned dorm room. That would be nice, but I didn’t so here I sit in my bra and panties, every inch of my five nine frame covered in sweat, trying to stay focused.

So now that I’ve introduced myself…Where was I? Oh, yeah, I HATE math! Maybe not all of it, but really! I ask you when do I need to know why A plus B multiplied by C equals X? I don’t care how to solve for X. Exes are not a good thing. I should know, I have racked up a few during my 19 years on this earth.

See what I mean about the heat? I keep losing my train of thought. To hell with studying. Mind made up I pushed back from the table and shuffled across the living room, which is also part kitchen and part dining room. Entering the second room of my three room apartment, I unclasped my white cotton bra before stepping out of the matching underwear, and into my favorite bikini. A midnight black creation with tan beads securing the material together and to my body.

                                    ***********************************

Sighing I rose from my towel, time to go to work. Picking up the watch laying beside me, I realized I still had a few minutes. Dropping it back to the towel smiling I headed toward the cool surf to wash away the heat of my sun bathing. The water lapping at my bronzing waist felt heavenly against my skin. For something to occupy my time I scanned the faces of those crowding the beach.

Breath caught in my throat. A reaction, not to the wave that had run up my back, but the very tall, blonde hard body approaching me. I stood rooted in place, mouth open – I knew it was as I swallowed ocean water with the next wave – in awe. His laughing blue-gray eyes momentarily locked with mine as he passed. My soul reached, yearning, begging to be recognized by its match. Turning I followed his progress as he paddled his board out to deeper waters. Eyes focused, my heart weeping, I watched the disappearing figure unaware of the incoming wall of water. Noticing it only as it blocked my view seconds before knocking me on my a*s. Righting myself I searched the horizon. Unable to find the rider I sought, I left the water and headed for work.

Hours later I glanced down the bar and knew heaven was smiling down on me. There at the very end, in the darkest corner, sat the gorgeous specimen from earlier. My earlier grumblings about having to cover the bar – Yeah I know I’m under age. Well you got to do what you got to do to cover a sick employee. – until my manager Wyatt could make it in, stopped the moment I saw him. Noticing his near empty glass I made my way to where he sat, my heart hammering with each step. “Fill that up?” My question drew his gaze, which of course had been my goal. Those blue-gray eyes that haunted my daydreams now broke my heart with the tearful anguish they held. Tears welled behind my own eyes and a lump formed in my throat making speech impossible. Why I was so affected by his pain I cannot say, this was a first for me. My own tears had dried up years ago, yet here I was about to shed them over a stranger’s torment. Terrified by this, I quickly poured two fingers of Makers Mark in his glass and stepped away.

“Damn it Chris! We have been worried sick.” Wiping the escaped tear from my cheek, I jumped startled by my manager’s voice. Glancing toward the door I was surprised to find him angrily striding in our direction. “Thanks for covering Abs. Do me a favor before you finish closing down the kitchen and fix some food for this drunken a*****e to eat.” Without a word I left do his bidding.

Returning later with the BLT I quickly threw together I found Wyatt cursing as he helped a crowd of customers and Chris wondered out the door. Relief washed over his features as I caught his eye. “Take my friend home for me and make sure he eats that even if you have to shove it down his throat. Hell, have my wife Nicole help you when you get to the house. She is getting really good at dealing with him like this.” My protest of not having transportation was prevented from crossing my lips as he slid his keys toward me. “Don’t worry about coming back. I’ll clean up and then take his bike home.” Grabbing the keys and my bag from the back I quickly followed his friend’s direction hoping to find him before he got too far.

Luck it seemed was no longer on my side, as I was unable to make out any distinguishing features on the shadowy figures strewn along the sand. With much trepidation I set out on my quest. As the bar’s light grew dimmer behind me and the crowds thinned, my sense of impending doom increased.

Focused on the lone figure ahead of me, sure that I had found him, I ignored the urge to run. As I began to move forward once more a strong callused hand encircled my waist as another covered my mouth. Lesson learned here…. always heed internal warnings. Arms locked in his hold around my middle I knew my only hope of escape was one lucky kick to the knee. The moment my feet left the sand I began flailing kicking hoping for at least on lucking shot.    All at once I heard demanding screams and I was released, landing with a thud in the not so soft sand.

Dusting off the sand that now covered me, thanks both to being dropped and my rescuer giving chase, I watched the glimmering water. With only the sounds of the ocean to keep me company the reality of the situation sank in. Tears, that I had only a short time before held back, now ran unchecked down my face.   Minutes dragged by, my heart jumping with the smallest sound, as I waited for my knight to return from slaying the dragon. Uneasy I scanned the shoreline - ready to scramble, if necessary, to safety – for approaching danger. Panic clogged my throat at the approaching figure. Whether it was the recognition of the body that I had lusted after all day or the fact that our souls were one, I will never know. I all do know is relief washed away the fear a mere second after it surfaced as my heart put a face with the man approaching.

“What the hell were you doing out here alone? Don’t you realize what kind of monsters exist?” Although not his intention I am sure, the angry question flung at me pushed away all thoughts of the attack and had my temper flaring.

“I was looking for your stupid drunk a*s, so I could take you home. This is the last f*****g time I do Wyatt a favor.” Springing to my feet instantly chest to chest I delivered my message. “Now let’s go! I want to get home before daylight.”

“No.”

“Whatever!  Stay here then!” Even through the red haze of my anger I knew I was far from rational or steady enough to drive. My chin thrust out defiantly in an effort to convince him, and well myself, that I would indeed leave him behind. Hand reaching up he grasp my quivering chin, as he bent closer, his face –and oh God his lips – drawing slowly closer to mine. Butterflies stretched their wings in anticipation, closer…closer…just a little…Oh yeah! Flapping furiously the now loose winged creatures fluttered around my stomach and heart. My lips opening under his, lightning electrifying the butterflies, our tongues danced the passion growing stronger with each pass. Bodies pressed together, my arms clasped to his neck and hands buried in that blonde hair….Is it wrong that I can feel that need, that desperation as I tell of my memory? No. I think it is definitely a good thing.

Where was I? Oh yeah we were trying to devour each other. As my back pressed against the now cool sand my mind began to question my actions and his conscience kicked in. Before I could blink he was seated next to me. “Abby…Hey don’t look shocked. Yes I know your name. It was easy seems how my best friend is your boss. Anyway I think you…no I know there are things I need to share before we take this where it is headed.” With my dread filled sigh and nod he began his confession. 

As I watched the moonlit waves crash repeatedly into the sandy shore he told me about his sons. His eldest’s, Little Chris, fourth birthday was today. And it was the first that he had missed. When I inquired about his other son tears flooded his eyes. With a quivering voice he explained that Alex had just turned three in January.   And that he would forever be that age. Without prompting, needing to speak the words aloud, he explained that his wife – Oh god his married, off limits – was bathing the boys and had taken Chris out first. Something, he said, was not the norm as Chris had a tendency to escape outside when no one was watching.  That is in fact what happened. Just as Jessica, obviously his wife, was reaching for Alex she heard the front door slam open. Instructing Alex to stay put she quickly rushed to catch his naked brother before he ran into the street.

Alex, Chris explained with a sad smile, always needing to be with his brother, attempted to climb out of the tub and follow. That’s of course is a guess as no one really knew for sure the how or why, just the ultimate outcome. Jessica had returned after only a few moments to his lifeless body. The ambulance arrived within minutes, along with half their town, to find there was nothing to be done. The autopsy found he had fractured cervical vertebrae one, translation he broke his neck.   Hence the theory that he had been trying to climb out of the tub and slipped.

Now sober and restless he pulled me to my feet to begin our leisurely stroll to Wyatt’s car. Cool waves lapped over our now bare feet in a relaxing manner as he continued his tale. Tears fell from both our eyes once more as he told of funeral. His story wound down as we sat in front of my apartment – can’t tell you how we got here, I must have been on auto pilot – he once again addressed his marriage. In a tone filled with regret spoke of how their son’s death chipped away at their marriage in the months that followed until it ended with one final fight. A fight he did not thankfully share, as it should be kept private, but one that ended with Jessica asking him to leave. With a heavy heart he had, hoping that space and time would allow them to heal. In a shameful voice he explained that as his pain had ebbed he realized that Jessica had been right in believing that he blamed her for Alex’s death. His apologetic call had come too late as she refused to speak to him, her mother relaying the message “It’s over”. With a heavy sigh he searched my eyes for my reaction.

“Now you know my baggage and just how new it is. All that is left is for you to decide if you can deal with it. If not, okay. I understand….Don’t like it, but I understand.” An uncomfortable silence enveloped the car as I examined my feelings about the situation.   Exactly a minute after he asked the question I answered by leading him up the stairs to the tiny sweltering apartment I had escaped that morning.

Now you know all about the day I met my Prince Charming, your daddy. Sure his armor may have some tarnish and dents, but we don’t care do we Kate?

Soft chuckling from the door brought a smile to my face. “Abby, love I am not a prince and you should know by now that I am far from charming. Now give me my baby girl and you get some rest.”

Smile on my face I close my eyes and do his bidding, only to find dreams have taken me back once again to the beginning of my fairy tale.

Author's Note

I realize that it is filled with grammar problems. As always all comments and criticism welcome.

Reviews

[Wolfe Greytome]

As you mentioned in your Author's Note, there are a lot of errors that I assume you will be correcting when you get the chance to do your editing. With that being said, I like how the narrative slips off on a tangent every now and then. As a dishwater blonde from Ohio, I quite easily relate to such thought patterns :)

Overall, I would call this a good piece.

[Aercion]

I honestly don't care much about writing errors. A story should be judged on how well it attracts a reader. If it wasn't then I am sure that Steven King, Anne Rice, J.K. Rowling, Ted Dekker and many others would never have made it as far as they have...because I have read plenty of books that don't catch every little mistake. It doesn't matter if the story holds. For this simple reason your story stands on its' own. This is a funny, moving tale of a prince charming who doesn't seem like it at first. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and the rest of your works. You are a great writer and this is a great story. The end and no arguments.