Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(86)
She and Colton had gotten married at the Spring Mountain Town Hall, one month to the day after he returned home. She touched the backs of the gold rings on her finger, smiling to herself when her belly swarmed with butterflies, as it always did when she remembered her wedding day. In a million years, she wouldn’t trade the memory of that fall day, looking up into Colton’s eyes and saying “I do,” then listening to his deep voice say the same. Was it fancy? No. Was it perfect? It bound them together forever. So, yes. It was.
She looked up to see Ryan standing in front of the trellis, Joe at his side, no doubt whispering some calming words of counsel. Joe waved as she approached and said, “You hand me my godbaby, now! Oooo! Janie, what a day we got for a weddin’, child!”
Verity chuckled as she watched the gray-haired man coo and swoon over the tiny blonde baby, her heart full of love and gratitude as he half danced, half walked to his reserved seat of honor in the front row next to the aisle.
. . . which left Verity and Ryan alone, standing in the trellis opening together, so very different from how they must have looked the day they’d stood in the doorway of the Marriott ballroom, despairing of finding jobs together, until her knight in shining armor rescued them.
“You ready, Ry?” she asked.
“I love Melody.”
“I know you do.”
“Don’t like bein’ away from her, Ver’ty. Now I can be with her all the time.”
“That’s right, Ryan. And you’ll help with the dishes?”
“Yup. And take out the garbage. And I’ll get the CM if she’s havin’ one of her spells. And I’ll make sure that she don’t run out of rocky road.”
“We keep it stocked in the store now,” said Verity. “I make sure.”
Over the past year, Verity had taken over the management of the Bonnie’s Place sundries store, and it was now open five days a week instead of three. She was permitted to bring Jane to work and had hired a college girl to help her part-time with the store, and part-time with Jane. She’d learned a surprising amount during her month of work with Beverly, and she cheerfully placed orders, restocked the shelves, and helped the residents of Bonnie’s Place find everything they needed.
“I’ll come see you at the store sometimes, Ver’ty, but I might be busier now,” he said, puffing out his chest a little.
“Too busy for your little sister?” she asked, elbowing him in the side.
“Nah,” he said, smiling down at her. “I got rooms in my heart for more than Mel. There’s a room for you, and one for Colton. Joe has a big room, and Janie has a small one. But there’s rooms for everyone, Ver’ty. Don’t worry.”
The opening bars of “All You Need Is Love” sounded, and Verity looked up to see her husband standing tall and proud beside his cousin, the beautiful bride.
“Your heart sounds like a sweet place, Ry,” she said, locking eyes with her beloved knight as he walked slowly down the aisle toward her. “I think we’ve all found our sweet place, big brother.”
THE END
A LETTER TO MY READERS
Dear Reader, Thank you for reading my latest modern fairytale, Dark Sexy Knight. I hope you loved reading Verity and Colt’s story as much as I loved writing it.
As the sister of a special-needs person, this story is much closer to my heart than many of the other books I’ve written. There was so much of me poured into Verity and so much of my brother in my renderings of Ryan and Melody. The worried looks. The eyes that search mine with trust, hoping for answers or protection, knowing that I am a safe place in a massive, often indecipherable world. I have known the joy of witnessing his boundless kindness. I have been humbled by his struggles and deeply proud of the way he tries harder at life than anyone else I’ve ever known.
I have also had a lifetime, front-row seat to the incredibly painful reality of cruelty and discrimination against special-needs people. I have seen my beloved brother treated with such fantastic unkindness, it would make your breath catch in shock and your heart clench with profound sorrow. Many times I have wondered: Are “average” intelligence people frightened of special-needs people because they look and sound different? Or because they are kept separate from mainstream society in special education classes and in group homes? Maybe, if special-needs people were better integrated, their differences wouldn’t be feared or ridiculed.
For this reason more than any other, I am proud to give 25 percent of the net profits (for all sales in June and July 2016) of Dark Sexy Knightto the Prospector Theater in Ridgefield, Connecticut. From the Prospector’s website: The Prospector Theater is a new model of social enterprise. It pairs a first-run, commercial movie theater with the mission of training and employing adults with disabilities. It's a not-for-profit system, with the competitiveness and transparency of a for-profit business model. It shows how community groups, businesses, and people in the private sector—working together—can improve the quality of lives for those with disabilities, while lessening the financial burden on the government and helping boost employment rates.
That language is very formal. Let me break it down.
When you enter the gorgeous, modern Prospector Theater, you are greeted warmly by a special-needs person—perhaps someone with spina bifida or Down syndrome—who directs you to the ticket counter. There, another special-needs person (sometimes assisted by a mentor) helps you with your ticket purchase. From there, you can visit the concession areas: one sells coffee, beer, and wine, and the other sells soda and popcorn. Both areas are staffed by special-needs people (sometimes assisted by mentors) who are courteous and efficient, eager to help and dedicated to their job. Your ticket is taken by a special-needs person who urges you to “Enjoy the show!” as you enter a state-of-the-art movie theater. Before the show, a special-needs person reviews the rules of the theater and reminds you of the movie you’re about to see. After the audience claps for the short presentation, the previews begin. At the Prospector, there are always two or three short, homemade “commercials” featuring theater employees and highlighting upcoming events. Often, these commercials are also met with applause. And when the movie is over, special-needs people are ready and waiting to usher you from the theater and then stay to tidy up for the next show.