Baby Kisses

Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Published

Tooty could barely contain her excitement. Copies of her poetry book had arrived. Running back to the house from her mailbox at the entrance to her property, she asked Miles if he'd watch the boys while she made a trip to town. He looked up from his laptop. "Sure. What's up?"

"I just need to pick something up. I'll show you when I get back."

"You're looking pretty excited. I can't wait."

Tooty rushed to her truck. Over the past month, she and Miles had fallen into a routine. He seemed satisfied living in their humble home and she no longer tortured herself with "what ifs" and recriminations. They were both busy writing and sharing responsibilities for the boys. As soon as Harris and Eli were tucked into bed in the evenings, she'd say goodnight to Miles and work on her latest project in her room. She was writing a love story based on Annabelle's diary. The more she wrote, the more the characters came alive in her mind and she remembered Miles saying something similar before. Often, she would sit on the porch visualizing Annabelle and Eli and their children laughing in her yard.

At the rural post office, she rushed to the counter and handed over her slip. The clerk did a double take. "Hey, I seen you on the cover of Tattle Tale Magazine. You're married to that famous author. Wow! I want you to know I don't believe the crap they write, but it sure makes for entertaining reading. Me and my friends are bettin' your marriage will last more than six months. Hell, we're believin' it'll last fifty years 'cause somebody needs a happily-ever-after in this life. I sure ain't found mine."

Tooty gave the woman a little smile and tuned her ramblings out. Grabbing her package, she hastened back to her car. She just couldn't wait to open it and searched her glove box for her pocket knife. Slicing through the wrapping, she held her breath and lifted one of the complementary copies of Sweet Torment. Gently flipping through the pages, she felt overcome with pride for her accomplishment. She'd wanted to tell Miles so many times, but intimidation had held her back. He was such an accomplished writer and she wondered what he'd think. Would he consider her poetry drivel and just say nice things to keep from hurting her feelings. That would be worse than him telling her his true thoughts.

Returning her attention to the book, she grinned. Unless someone did some digging, they'd never know that Tooty Townsend had written this collection. Thank you Annabelle for my pen name, Anna Belle.

When she got home and carried the box into the living room, Miles had Eli on his lap tickling him and Harris was playing with his miniature race cars. Miles glanced up and his eyes rested on the box. "Okay, boys, time to chill. In fact, I think it's Eli's nap time."

"What's in the box, Mommy?" asked Harris.

"Nothing you need to know about right now." She took the books to her bedroom and then returned to hoist Eli into her arms. "Yep, its nap time. Come on, Harris, you can read to your brother, but if you start goofing off, I'm gonna separate you two. Understood?"

"Yes, Mom," said Harris.

"Yeth, Mommy," said Eli.

Tooty settled the boys in their bedroom and then returned to her own room to retrieve Sweet Torment. Her pulse pounded when she walked back to the living room.

Miles said, "Okay, Tooty, the mystery is driving me crazy."

Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She handed the book to him. He accepted it, looked it over, and then said, "Anna Belle. Pretty name. Do you know her?"

"Ah, yes and no."

He waited for her to explain.

"I've been reading the diary of a woman named Annabelle who was born in the 1800s. I only know her through words."

"Did she write this book of poetry?"

Tooty inhaled slowly. "No...I did. I made her name my pen name."

Miles jerked his gaze from the book to Tooty. "You wrote this? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I don't know. I guess because you're so accomplished and-and I-I feel so...amateurish."

As if it were a rare flower, Miles fingered the book and slowly turned the pages. When he looked up, he said, "I'm so proud of you."

Tooty hadn't expected that and blinked rapidly against tears. "I-I need to be alone for a few minutes." She rushed from the room and headed toward a quiet spot near the river that she often enjoyed.

* * *

Through the window, Miles watched Tooty run toward the trees. Lovingly, he turned to the first page of her book and started reading. The book wasn't long, only forty pages, but it was beautifully written and illustrated. As he read, he fell even more in love with his sweet young wife. He read the last poem and his heart stopped.

My Bright Man

His eyes, the color of love

Paint my soul with living shades.

He is the shadow of my dreams;

He knows me as no other.

Will I ever meet him?

Do miles separate us?

Or is he the bright star in my backyard?

Is he fey?

Or is he man?

He is near, yet so far.

I am young, but old in hurt.

He is old, but unaware of his youth.

We are paradoxes of ourselves.

How shall we end our sweet torment?