Cindy A. Christiansen's Blog, page 17

A Brush with Hypnosis

Life was perfect.
Yet, I was depressed, and I couldn’t figure out why.  I had no reason to be so down.  A friend suggested a hypnotist.  I was skeptical, but it was better than adding more pills to my regimen.
I asked around and finally found a woman hypnotist that came highly recommended from several sources and friends.  I must admit, my anxiety skyrocketed as I approached her home office.  I felt silly, but I was sick of being in this dark slump.  I knocked, and her warm smile reassured me.
“Welcome.  Come in and sit down,” she said, waving me past her.  “You don’t need to be nervous.  Just take a deep breath and relax.”
Easy for her to say. I didn’t like giving up control to anyone.
“Would you be more comfortable sitting or lying down?”
Leaving.  Why am I here?  This won’t work. I stiffly moved toward a floral chair with a high, curved back.  “Here’s fine.”
“Tell me why you are here today,” she said, pulling up a matching chair directly in front of me.
I pushed my back into the chair and curled my toes inside my shoes.  My fingers dug into the arms of the chair.  “I’ve been a bit depressed for a while now.”
She took a deep breath and signaled with her hand for me to do the same.  My breath was ragged, so I tried to unwind. How could she hypnotize me if I was wound tighter than a toy top? I tightened then released my tense muscles.
“Breathe in slowly through the nose.  Hold it.  Now release slowly through the mouth,” she said.
We continued with breathing until she told me to close my eyes.  I wiggled my foot as inconspicuously as possible to touch my purse, sitting on the floor.  Did I really think she would steal my wallet?  No. But, I wasn’t comfortable closing my eyes.
“Let’s go back,” she said.  “Back to when you were a child.”
Are you going to blame my mother? Am I really under hypnosis?  I had no idea what I should be feeling. In a way, I felt odd—almost child-like.  My voice sounded like Carol Burnett doing her impression of Shirley Temple.
“Where are you?” the hypnotist asked.
“School.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Third grade.  We just came in from recess.”  I shivered and rubbed my arms.  “It was cold and snowy out there.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Walking to Mrs. Jensen’s class for reading.  The floor is wet from everyone’s shoes.”
Mrs. Jenson was a kind, large, dark-haired woman who always wore Hawaiian muumuu dresses and low-heeled shoes with buckles.
I felt a bubbling of tearful emotion starting to build in my throat.  My lip quivered.
“What are you doing now?” she asked.
I could see it all so clearly.  The snow out the wall of windows, the straight rows of desks facing the blackboard, Mrs. Jensen’s desk at the back of the room, and all the colorful coats lined up on the back wall.  Kids hung up their coats, others squeaked their way to desks.  Mrs. Jensen stepped carefully from the blackboard and worked her way around kids toward her desk.
From the doorway I saw her…and then I didn’t.  All of the kids squealed with loud laughter that felt like it lasted forever. Mrs. Jensen had slipped on the wet floor and went down.  She struggled to her feet, the laughter continuing.  Tears filled Mrs. Jensen’s eyes.  I could see both pain and embarrassment.

“Stop it!  Stop laughing,” I yelled aloud.
“What’s wrong?  What happened?” the hypnotist asked.
“They’re laughing at her.  Why are they laughing?”  Tears streamed down my cheeks.
I slowly shook my head.  I couldn’t believe it.  My chest ached with sharp pain.  How could these kids be so cruel?  Mrs. Jensen limped past me out of the room. 
“You are only watching,” the hypnotist said.  “This happened long ago.”
I wept, clamping my hands to my chest. 
She brought me back gradually.  She finally told me I could open my eyes.  They fluttered open and then I stared at her in amazement.  All this emotion over someone else’s experience.
“That wasn’t even about me,” I said to her, looking for a tissue.
“Yes, it did happen to you.”
“It happened to Mrs. Jensen.”
“The emotions you feel are your own.  You are obviously a very caring, sensitive person.”
“They were so mean.”  My bottom lip trembled.
“You were so young. It was probably your first experience with how cruel others can be.”
I didn’t know what to say.  I felt odd.  I felt embarrassed. I left in a daze.
I’m still amazed that my first hypnosis session took me back to Mrs. Jensen’s 3rd grade class and even more amazed that my depression went away.

Have you ever been hypnotized?  What was your experience?
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Copyright: Cole123RF / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weekend Fun Dog Video: Attacked by a Puppet Dog

This video really made my day!Hope you enjoy it, too, and your weekend.


Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.comCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

September $229 Giveaway

It’s time for September’s $229 Kindle Giveaway Hosted by I Am A Reader.


The winner will have the option of receiving a 7" Kindle Fire HDX (US Only - $229 Value)
  Or a $229 Amazon.com Gift Card (International)
  Or a $229 in Paypal Cash (International)

Each of these bloggers/authors paid to help sponsor this giveaway.


Sponsor List:I Am A Reader Feed Your Reader E Kirk, Author Inspired Kathy Lori's Reading Corner Talia Jager, Author Mother Daughter Book Reviews Krysten Lindsay HagerEvery Free Chance BooksRomance Under FireI Love to Read and Review Books :) Christine's Blog Elizabeth Isaacs Author Kimber Leigh Wheaton Pauline Creeden, Author Author - Cindy A Christiansen Mama Monkey Craftology MoreThanaReview My Devotional Thoughts Author Suzy TurnerJenn @ Bookreviewsandgiveaways Too-Clever Danielle @ Coffee and Characters Author D.E. Haggerty C Family of 6 Bella Street Weird Romance Bonnie Blythe's Pure RomanceSid Frost YA Author Fabio Bueno Read for your future Jennifer Laurens Author Laurie Here - Contemporary Fiction and MORE Reviews from a Bookworm Helen Smith (author) Author Deb Atwood Author Claudia Burgoa Start PublishingElizabeth Isaacs True North Publishing Whiskey Creek Press Deanna Lynn Sletten, Author Luthando CoeurBette Lee Crosby Against Idleness; Mischief (BOOKTUBE) BookBunnyPR Victoria Allred
Giveaway Details:
One winner will receive their choice of an all new Kindle Fire 7" HDX (US Only - $229 value), $229 Amazon Gift Card, or $229 in Paypal Cash (International). Ends 9/30/14. Open only to those who can legally enter and who can receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter, or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the participating authors & bloggers. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.
 
How to Enter:
Enter by clicking the link below and following the instructions. This is not a blog hop. Not much is required.  Like or follow authors and bloggers of clean books.  Yes, it takes a few clicks but look what you could win!!

A Rafflecopter GiveawayCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

The Case of the Lunatic Lawyer

Despite being an honor roll student, a sought-after portrait artist, and a legal secretary for a small group of lawyers, at sixteen and still in high school, I didn’t exactly glow with self-confidence. I had grown up without my parents telling me much about life off the farm. I trusted too easily, gave my heart too easily, and I certainly wasn’t wise to the grownup games people play.
The head lawyer, Jacob, had always been kind, fun, understanding, and caring. With the win of an important legal case, involving millions of dollars, he soon changed. By the end of my senior year in school, he hardly ever came to work. Two of the other male lawyers gossiped that he had opened a law practice in Salt Lake with an influential woman, however this woman had supposedly gotten him involved in drugs and alcohol.
I found myself dealing with clients without him by duplicating standard divorce papers, and when Jacob didn’t show up for meetings, I ended up forging his signature and signing as a witness, despite being underage, just to save his practice. The other lawyers were slowly leaving, looking for work elsewhere. I didn’t know what to do.  I finally turned in my two weeks’ notice, and Jacob wrote me a lovely recommendation. He began interviewing secretaries without much luck. Still today, I have to admit these were two of the worst weeks of my life. The woman attorney, Jenay, started coming out to our office. She gave me complicated, dictated documents to type up that I had no idea what they meant, let alone how to spell the words. In the small community we lived in, we had mostly done divorces and wills. She continually chastised me with a red pen. (I’m positive that’s why I don’t edit my writing with red to this day.)  You have to realize this was before computers and word processors. Yes, I had an electric typewriter but you had to put in carbon paper to make copies. (I’m so old.) And, our dictation equipment was staticy.
Jacob’s behavior became more and more erratic as he tried to find a secretary who would do everything I had done and for the little pay I received. I was receptionist, typist, office cleaner, coffee maker and plant waterer all in one. With only a few days left of work and not knowing when or if he would show up for work, I made out my check through to the end of the week and left it on his desk.
The next day, after my half-a-day at school, I drove to work. Despite it being early afternoon, the door was locked. I pulled out my keys, went inside, and looked at the pile of work the high and mighty Jenay had left on my desk. I wandered in to see if my check had been signed. Nope. I shrugged, pulled off the cover on my electric typewriter, and turned it on.
I kept gazing out the window as dusk fell over the small town. The office was located just down the street from the liquor store and I had had one or two incidents with drunks wandering inside. I was just about to get up and lock the door when Jenay came in. She didn’t even speak or look at me, just headed down the hall to an office.
Shortly after, Jacob who had hired me, who had given me my first job, who had written that wonderful recommendation, and who I had admired and trusted also came in. He couldn’t walk straight. He ran into the corner of his office. He smiled, went inside, and accidentally banged his glass door shut. Moments later, Jenay joined him. I tried not to look up from my typing.
“Cindy, would you come in here?” Jacob asked.
I startled, having a bad feeling about this. I reluctantly entered his office. I could feel an electrical intensity in the room.
“Did you type this?” Jacob slurred.
Jenay handed him a document that he immediately thrust in my face. Every other word was circled in red.
“Yes, but—“
“This is inexcusable. And, to top it off, you steal from me.”
Steal! What on earth was he talking about?  With a roiling stomach, I listened to Jacob slur his way through a host of insulting accusations and lies. I fidgeted, kept rubbing my lips, tapped my leg, dry washed my hands, and stared at the floor. I never once thought of defending myself, telling him off, or confronting the both of them.
As his tirade went on, I peeked up and noticed the smile on Jenay’s face. I didn’t understand any of this. I had never met or associated with people like this before. I wanted to get up and bolt out the door, never to return. Jacob threatened to not sign my paycheck. Jenay hopped to her feet, turned, and gave me a devious smile over her shoulder before leaving. What had I ever done to her?
None of this made sense. All I knew was that I had never been accused of being dishonest in my life. I couldn’t figure out how someone could turn on you. I didn’t think about the alcohol or drugs. I’d had no experience with that.
Jacob made me redo the paycheck so that that night was my final day. I left in a flurry of confusion, insecurity, and tears. My understanding of what took place didn’t come for a long time. The event shaped my future and robbed me of my trusting innocence. A sense of security in myself didn't come for many years later.
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.com  Copyright: damedeeso / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Falling for Fall

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” — Albert Schweitzer
School has started and the weather is changing.
Yes, autumn is my favorite time of year. I have fond memories of life on our farm with my family and harvesting what we had worked so hard to produce through the year. I remember peeling and coring apple after apple for bottled apples and applesauce, my mouth watering for one of my mom’s homemade apple pies; the canning season coming to a close as we gathered the squash to store in the cellar; and finally putting the garden to bed for the dormant winter months ahead.
Memories of my dad’s hardworking hands, my mother’s gentle smile, and my siblings’ playful banter take me back to a picturesque time when life was slower and more people had sense of gratitude instead of entitlement.
But most of all, I remember being together as a family, sharing a story and a laugh while we worked together and the feelings of love, contentment, and peace that radiated from our home. I am so very thankful for these memories and hope the home life I have tried to create for my children will provide them with the same wonderful memories I enjoy because there really is no place like home.
Although I am grateful for my family and friends who light the flame within me, often times it’s the memories of life on our farm which help to rekindle my passion for life. For this, I am forever grateful.

I thoroughly enjoy watching this Siberian Husky named Butch playing in the fall leaves. Hope you enjoy it too. Have a wonderful weekend!  



Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.comCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Give Me Lipizzaner Stallions or Give Me Death!

I was sick all the time. This time, I was particularly ill. The doctors had finally combined penicillin and cephalosporin antibiotics to try to attack whatever was wrong. Meanwhile, I was still working and remodeling our house.
The Lipizzaner stallions show was in town, and I desperately wanted to go. I bought tickets for me, my husband, my brother, a friend I’d made at work, and her husband. We were all set to go. I had the tickets, and we were to meet at the Fairgrounds that evening.
Boy, I felt awful!  But then, when didn’t I? My brother came over and the three of us headed out, my husband driving. I told myself I’d be fine, it would pass. Then it hit. My mouth filled with water and the cords in my neck tightened. My stomach blew up, and I felt a rippling in my colon. The car ride dizzied me. I could make it. Didn’t I know every bathroom stop from Salt Lake City to Ogden? I was used to being sick to my stomach.
I cursed myself. Hold on! It will pass!
I had to make it. Everyone was counting on me. I had all the tickets. We had to make it to the show. Even if I spent the night in the restroom, at least everyone else could watch the horse show. I held on, grasping the seat with both hands and trying to keep everything inside.
“Are you okay?” my husband asked.
I couldn’t even answer. The rushing street, bright headlights, and changing street lights caused my head to swirl. Don’t mention swirl, too close to hurl!  I can’t make it!
“You’re going to have to stop somewhere,” I told my husband. “I’m sick.”
“Let me take you home.”
My brother nodded. “We shouldn’t have gone in the first place.”
“I can do this,” I responded. “Just get me to a restroom. I’ll be fine after that.”
My husband pulled into a restaurant parking lot, and I had the door open before he came to a complete stop. I rushed in, found the restroom, and bolted through the door. Both stalls were taken.
I beat on one of the doors. “Lady, you’ve got to let me in there, and I mean now!”
I have no idea how long I took. From the looks on both my husband’s and brother’s faces, I’d say quite awhile. However, I was determined to continue.
“I think we better call it a night,” my brother said. “You don’t look well at all.”
“He’s right,” my husband said.
“No. No. I can make it.” I slipped into the backseat and rested my head. I scratched my stomach.
He pulled back onto the road, rain starting to drizzle. My vision whirled like a merry-go-round—round and round, up and down. My stomach itched again.
“Could you turn on the overhead light?” I asked.
I pulled up my shirt just as the light came on. Three red welts graced my stomach, and I gasped.
My brother turned around and spotted them. “That’s it. Where’s the nearest hospital?”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to the show. I at least need to give our friends their tickets.”
“Pioneer Hospital is the closest,” my husband said.
“I am not going to that hospital.” I leaned forward and touched his shoulder.
My husband did a U-turn. “I’ll take you back to the house so you can get your truck,” he said to my brother. “If you want to go see the Lippizans without us, you should.”
“You just get her to the hospital.”
“You both are making a big deal out of nothing.”  I stirred through my purse. “I’ll see if I have some allergy medication.”
I would not, could not give up. My next breath was constrained. I grabbed at my throat. Was my breathing blocking off? My chin trembled, and I shrunk back on the seat. I closed my eyes, not wanting to face reality. We weren’t going to see the horses. My friends would show up and not have their tickets. My brother wouldn’t get to see them either. I gave a half-hearted shrug and mumbled under my breath, “I ruin everything.”
“Better safe than sorry,” my husband said, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
I agreed, emotionless. I wanted to see the Lipizzaner stallions.
We took my brother back to our house. By then, I could hardly breathe. My husband rushed me to our local hospital. I can’t quite remember what happened from there except for the chewing out my husband received from the doctor.
“You should have called the paramedics or taken her to the nearest hospital,” the ER doctor said. “She’s in anaphylaxis shock. She’s allergic to one or the other of the antibiotics. She would have been dead in another twenty minutes.”
“But you don’t know my wife,” he answered.
And, not much has changed in all these years. “Give me death” has happened on more than one occasion because of my stubbornness and unwillingness to succumb to health issues. I guess I’ll never change. 
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.com  
Photo credit: http://www.blingcheese.com/image/code/34/assorted.htm

Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Tell Me It's Not A Chihuahua!

When we rescued Chloe, her paperwork said she was a Tibetan terrier mix. She was in a kennel with three Chihuahuas, and she only weighed six pounds at nine months old.  The Humane Society told us she came from the streets of Los Angeles and had been on the euthanasia list.

Our family teased about taking her back within the thirty day period if she was part Chihuahua.  Of course, we wouldn't do that, but it has been fun teasing her about it.

Chloe has been quite difficult to train.  Although we have worked extensively with her to "come", she runs from everybody. The other day, she was asleep on the couch and a commercial came on with a Chihuahua in it.  I said something in Spanish and her head popped up. We all started laughing, thinking she understands Spanish better than English.

After that, my youngest son sent me the video below about Chihuahuas.  It is really cute and the tune seems to stick in your head.




Have a wonderful, fun weekend!
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.comCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Time To Get Even: Part 2 of I Now Pronounce You...

Six years later after my “non-proposal”, I had my Bachelor’s degree and was working as a rebel programmer/analyst for Hercules Aerospace Company. My sister had been working for the Department of Transportation but had left and hired on in the computer department where I worked. We rarely got together. If you read my blog, Workin’ Man Blues, you’ll remember that because I was part of the rebel programmers, members of the computer department didn’t like us. I didn’t want to ruin my sister’s reputation. LOL Besides that, Sis and I hardly ever went to the cafeteria for lunch. This day we did.

Rattled about a program that wasn’t working and giving me fits, I couldn’t decide what to order.
Sis nudged me. “Isn’t that your old boyfriend in front of us?”
All I could see was a heavy-set, older guy in dirty coveralls and a baseball cap. “Where?” I asked.
“Him,” she whispered, nonchalantly pointing at the same guy.
My brain slowly stopped and rewound like an old reel on a tape recorder, remembering the past. This guy looked way older than his early twenties. Realization dawned on me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name. “What’s his name?”
“Jake. Don’t you remember?”
I never have understood how Sis remembers my old boyfriends’ names better than I. Taking several steps back with my hands clenched against my stomach, I tried to keep my rushing anger at bay.
Jake! Jake who practically left me at the altar? Jake who used me to get through his college classes? Jake who I cried over for weeks and weeks. My fists balled. I wanted to strike out both physically and verbally. Think, Cindy! What were all those snarky things you wished you’d said to him?
He turned and looked at me in surprise. “Cindy?”
I flashed him a cold smile. “Do I know you?” After all, I never would have recognized him. It was Sis who had. Darn her.
“It’s me. Jake.”
I feigned ignorance.
He held out his hands. “You know…Jake…college…uh, Business Law.”
“Oh, yes.” What could I say to stab him in the heart?
The lunch line moved forward. I reached the tray of silverware and picked up a butter knife. Dull blades hurt more than sharp blades. I took a deep breath and put it back. I couldn’t do that. Jake nodded to my sister, and I tried to ignore him as I continued down the line.
He followed. “Do you think we could talk?”
I rolled my eyes. Are you kidding me? Do you know the pain you caused me? Forget it! Wait! “Sure,” I said instead. On second thought, I did have a thing or two to say to him. Things I should have said that day in the car when he announced he was marrying someone else. “Yeah, sure. Let’s talk.”
Sis departed, and I lead Jake to my cubicle. As we walked, he explained he worked in Clearfield where they assembled the various motors. Imagine, ending up working at the same company only different divisions.I’d gathered my composure by the time we reached my desk.
“I’ve missed you,” he said right off.
I stammered. Missed me? The jerk. I leaned back on my heels. “Was that before or after your wedding?”
“You mean, Janet.” He looked down and shook his head. “That was a mistake. Our marriage didn’t last long.”
A moment of joy flowed through me. Serves you right. Then a twinge hit my stomach. What was I thinking? I didn’t wish him unhappiness, divorce, or a thousand years of misery…at least not anymore. I just wasn’t that sort of person. “I’m sorry,” I said. I’m sorry! I couldn’t believe I said that either.  He took off his baseball cap and exposed his balding head. “You look as beautiful as ever,” he said.
I held back a burst of laughter. I studied his face, a face I thought I once loved. I felt nothing. Right then I realized there was no attachment to him any longer. I didn’t care. He couldn’t hurt me any longer. It was true what they said: The opposite of love isn’t hate but, instead, indifference.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling.
“Are you married? Seeing anyone?”
“Jake, it really doesn’t matter.”
He knew what I meant, and although I really wasn’t trying to hurt him, he looked pained.
We never saw each other again, and I was finally over the pain of that day, thinking he would propose. I was proud of myself for who I am and that I didn’t say all those awful things I wished I’d said years ago. Life moves on.
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Partial photo credit to: damedeeso / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

The Eyes Have It!

Irlen Syndrome or Scotopic Sensitivity Syndrome. 

Have you heard of it?

Seventy percent of the information an individual receives enters through the eyes and must be correctly interpreted by the brain. Irlen is a condition that affects the interpretation. This problem is not curable and is often a lifetime barrier to learning and performance. Some of the symptoms include:

Print looks differentEnvironment looks differentSlow or inefficient readingPoor comprehensionEye strainDifficulty with math computationDifficulty copyingDifficulty reading musicPoor sports performancePoor depth-perception
Find out what it looks like in this video:




I had taken my two autistic boys for some other testing and found out they both have Irlen Syndrome. They really noticed the "white rivers" on a page of text. If you think you or someone you know might have it, you can do several tests on the Irlen.com website. 

And the good news is, there's something you can do about it. Color overlays help and printing on the correct colored paper helps. I also have the optical shop tint my sons' eyeglass lenses to the color that works for each of them. (They're different.) 

Surprisingly, as my older son aged, his color changed.  I mistakenly took him to the eye doctor but his test there was fine. With what he told the doctor, I realized I needed to take him back to have his color retested.

The Irlen site states they are also coming out with a cover overlay App.

Don't struggle. Find out more about this condition at: http://www.irlen.com. Knowledge is power.


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.com

Copyright: damedeeso / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

I Now Pronounce You...

My first marriage proposal takes us back to my beginning college days. I met Jake in Business Law. Frankly, I was almost dumbfounded when this good looking cowboy noticed me and said hi.

As I shoved my pretty sister in front of me, I said, “Are you sure you didn’t mean to say hi to my sister?”

Well, I had to make sure. Better to find out now before I let my heart spill to the floor.

“I meant you,” he said.

“Really?”

He nodded.

It was the start of a beautiful friendship and romance.

Our first date was totally romantic. His brother came to the door to pick me up because their dad insisted they make a beer run for him. After taking the case back to his house, Jake took me to a pool hall. The only way to describe the place is cliché-ish: dark, smoky, clacking pool balls, scraggly-bearded men drinking beer, and lots of cussing. I had never been in a pool hall before, and I clung to Jake in trepidation. Jake only smiled and chuckled at my naivety. I believe we left when a brawl broke out.

Being naturally helpful, Jake and I studied together. He was more into hotrods and engines than the judicial system and accounting methods. He walked me to all my classes and kissed me sweetly each time. As Magnum, P.I. always said, “I know what you’re thinking.” You’re thinking how sugary and stupid I am.

If Jake and I couldn’t get together for a holiday, he at least called. That included New Year’s Eve at midnight on the nose. We spent hours on the phone and hours studying in the student center. As spring quarter came to a close, I couldn’t think about anything but Jake. Love filled every breath, and I doodled hearts on every class paper. I couldn’t stand to not be touching him, even it meant just our knees during class.

I pictured going down the classroom aisle in my wedding dress and our law professor marrying us. My grades suffered, several of the professors even lectured me, but I didn’t care. Love was far more important, being Jake’s wife was far more important.

“Can I drive you home tomorrow after classes?” Jake asked. “There’s something important I want to talk to you about."

I opened my sister’s passenger car door, smiling. “Of course.”

His soft kiss lingered long on my lips as my sister speed off, rolling her eyes.

“He says he has something important to ask me.” I looked down at the friendship ring Jake had given me the month before and smiled. “He’s going to ask me to marry him.”

I got another eye roll.

If ever the clocks stopped ticking and the sun never set, it was that night, waiting for Jake to ask me to be his wife. A big barn-style house, eight kids, and two dogs waited impatiently for me to join them. If there were class tests that day, I’m sure I failed them. If there were new assignments, I’m sure I scribbled hearts and “I love you, Jake” across them.

Finally, we were in his car headed to my house. A gift-wrapped box sat between us on the seat. It wasn’t the size of a ring box but much bigger. I was certain he had wrapped my ring in multiple boxes to throw me off guard. His sense of humor and light-heartedness were two of the things I loved most about him.

Sweat poured from his forehead. I was beginning to wonder if he would ever get up the courage to ask me. Finally he pulled off the secluded, dirt, tower road about a mile from my house.

He turned in his seat. “First, I want to thank you for all your help this quarter. It’s been wonderful.”  He took my hand and studied it.

My heart gleefully jumped. “It’s been wonderful for me too.”

“I have to ask you something.” He swallowed hard.

I did, too, my throat dry. “What is it, Jake?” I said, my voice unusually high-pitched and intense love swelling and ready to burst from every pore. I couldn’t help but giggle.

He bit his lip. “How would you feel if I told you I was gonna get married?”

“Oh, Jake. Yes…what?” I smiled and then frowned, blinking repeatedly.

“I’m getting married,” he said.

His words floated around in my head. Married…he’s getting married…not me…he didn’t say he was marrying me. What was he telling me?  Who was he marrying?  He had spent every minute with me for months now. I now pronounce you…stupid!

Tears welled in my eyes. I had to get away. I had to run…to think. What had just happened?

“Congratulations,” I said numbly, opening and slipping out the door. “I’ll walk home from here.”

“Wait a minute,” he said, leaning toward my door.

“No. I gotta get home. Gotta study for finals.”  I drew back a sob.

“What about your thank you gift for helping me?”

I gulped. “Keep it. No problem.”

I ran all the way home, dress, high-heels, backpack and all.


CHECK BACK NEXT WEEK FOR MY BLOG ABOUT WHEN JAKE AND I MET 13 YEARS LATER.


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!
Fly into a good book at:  http://www.dragonflyromance.com

Copyright: innocent / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author