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Chapter 7
Tootsie
Strutting into work, I feel like a million bucks. I know there’s going to be some cleanup from the fundraiser, but I’m happy to do it because it’s a sign of how many people showed up. I set my purse down on my desk, a soft smile on my face as I consider the note from Roger within it. I know it makes me a cheesy romantic, but I couldn’t help it.
“Hey, Tootsie. Did you hear about the numbers?” my co-worker Stacie asks.
“Not yet,” I reply cheerily. “Surely we made enough. The place was packed last night.”
Her eyes widen, intent on delivering the news with the most drama. “We barely got half of what we needed.”
Despair rushes through me like a wave crashing on the beach. I stare, unblinking.
She takes in my shocked expression, and continues sharing her gossip. “We didn’t know what to do,” she says as if she’s on the same level as the library director. “But then we got a call this morning. Some guy named Roger saw the numbers and wants to donate the balance of what we need.”
“Roger?” I choke out.
Stacie nods dramatically. “Roger Murray. I transferred the call myself. She’s meeting him at the bank right now to make the transfer.”
I’m absolutely overwhelmed. Roger, my Roger, is making sure I have a job. Tears roll unheeded down my face as I frantically dig through my purse for the note. I have to read it again and see if there’s any indication of his intentions. But there’s nothing. Just that he needs to run some errands, and to meet him after work.
I need to see him. I can’t wait that long. Nobody has ever done something like this for me. I’m not sure what it means.
“Hey, are you okay? Here.” My talkative co-worker hands over a tissue. I dab at my eyes, and take a deep, shuddering breath.
“Actually, I’m not feeling so well.” I stand and grab my purse. “Can you tell everyone I needed to go?”
“Of course! Go home. Take care of yourself.”
Hopping in my little car, I drive down Vincent Street, frantically searching for Roger. He’s not at the bank. I don’t see him at Koffee Karma. He’s not anywhere in our little downtown. Well, I'm not waiting until this evening to talk to him. Maybe he’s at his house.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull up in his driveway. I check my hair and face in the rearview mirror. My nose is pink from crying and my eyeliner is smudged. Doesn’t matter. I hop out of my car, purse in hand, and knock on his door, feeling a sense of deja vu. Just over a week ago I stood in this same spot, hoping for a romantic love story.
And now I’m in the middle of one.
Roger opens the door, and a smile stretches wide over his face. “Tootsie! I thought you had work today.” He notices I’ve been crying, and quickly pulls me close. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”
I feel like I’m always crying on this man’s shoulder. It’s embarrassing, but I need to know, “Did you donate your savings to save my job?”
He pulls me tighter and mumbles, “You weren’t supposed to find out.”
“You did?! But it’s so much money,” I protest.
“Worth it.” He caresses my cheeks, rubbing my tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Besides, I wasn’t going to let my girl move away when I just found her. In fact, since you’re here, I wanted to ask you something. Let’s get inside, and off the stoop.” He guides me into his living room and sits next to me on his threadbare couch.
“Baby girl, you make me happier than an engine that just got an oil change. This morning, I realized I couldn’t live without waking up to your smile every single day. When your lease runs out, would you move in with me?”
I’m already nodding in agreement.
He pulls something out of his pocket. “And when you move in, will you do it as my wife?”
My head stops its mindless bobbing as I stare at the vintage diamond ring in front of me.
He continues, “This is the first ring my grandfather got for my grandmother. He’s since given her many more rings. When I got old enough, they gave me this ring and said I should only give it to the woman who makes my heart happy.” He holds my hand as he shifts to kneel on the ground next to the sofa. “Tootsie, you make my heart want to fly. Will you marry me?”
It’s almost impossible to believe, but I do. I can see the love shining from his blue eyes. He used a huge chunk of his money to keep my job. But that’s not why I find myself nodding and whispering, “Yes,” over and over again. It’s because my heart feels the same way about him. He’s my soulmate. My real life romance novel hero. My personal Mr. Darcy.
As he registers my response, he surges up to claim my mouth as his own. “We’re going to be so happy together, baby girl.”
“Yes, we are.” This week started with me feeling sorry for myself for being alone on Valentine’s Day. And now I’m here in the arms of my dream man, realizing that love stories really do come true, and I’m finally getting my happily ever after.
