Brutus! Denise jerked around in her chair to see him planted right behind her, arms folded over his very rumpled blue uniform, glaring at Mike.

“Brutus. Are you done working? You didn’t call.”

He slid his glare over to her. “Wasn’t taking a chance you’d block me. I figured I’d find you here so I came in person.” The glare went back across the table. “Who’s this?” he demanded again.

Denise paused. Swallowed. “My father,” she replied quietly. “Mike Johnson, this is Brutus Gunnison.”

Mike stood up. He was a tall man, but three inches shorter than Brutus, and sixty or seventy pounds lighter. Brutus’s eyes opened a fraction wider for a moment. He offered a paw. “So,” he drawled. “You’re the asshole.”

Mike’s mouth twitched. Denise wasn’t sure what it meant. Maybe offence, maybe amusement, or maybe both. “That would be me,” he confirmed, taking Brutus hand and giving it a shake. “Brutus. Heard of you.” He glanced at her, then back to Brutus. “I reckon you want to see Denise. I’ll head back up to Stella’s room and leave y’all to talk.”

Denise stood up too. “I, uh.” She cleared her throat. “I’m glad we had a chance to talk, Mike.”

His eyes crinkled in a smile. “Me, too. Don’t leave the hospital without seeing Stella, hear?”

“I won’t.”

He picked up his tray, nodded at them, and walked to the trash can. She and Brutus both watched him leave. Then she steeled herself to look at Brutus. Lines were cut in to his face. He looks so tired. This must have been a hellish day for him. She held a hand out to the chair Mike had just left.

“Have a seat?”

He did. With his arms folded over his chest and a forbidding look on his face, he drawled, “You’ll talk to the asshole, but not to me?”

She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she began.

He leaned forward and unfolded one arm to jab at finger at her. “You’re so big on talk. You told me to go talk to someone. But when the tables are turned it’s a different story, isn’t?”

“Brutus,” she tried again, but he cut her off.

“I called you. Over and over. You never answered.”

The accusation in his voice made her want to cringe. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t let her continue. “Then, a couple of weeks ago, your phone wouldn’t even let me leave a message anymore. If you were so big on talking, why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Because I was stupid. I was every bit the hypocrite you called me.” She made her voice flat. “I let myself think you were something you’re not.”

“And what’s that?”

“Untrustworthy.”

Hurt flashed across his face before he folded his arms over his chest again. “And now you think I am worthy of your trust?”

“I think so. At least, I’m willing to listen to your side.”

“Oh, thanks so much,” he drawled.

She stared down at her congealing meatloaf, not quite succeeding in keeping tears from her eyes. She wasn’t a weeper, but she couldn’t stop the tears today. “I was wrong,” she said in a small voice. Mike had manned up and taken responsibility for his stupidity. She couldn’t do less. “I should have listened to you when I went to see you in the hospital.” She gave a tiny sniff and blinked to force the tears back. “I let my own insecurities get in the way.”

She dared to peek at him, and saw his face twist. “Don’t do that,” he ordered gruffly. “You know I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m not crying! It’s just been a long day, and I’m scared for Stella, and I met Mike for the first time, and you hate me.”

“Oh, crap.” He scrubbed his hands over his tired face. “I don’t hate you. Of course, I don’t hate you. I’m hurt.”

She defiantly wiped her nose with a paper napkin. “I don’t blame you. I was stupid to jump to conclusions and not give you a chance to tell your side of it.”

“Yeah, you were.” His voice was soft now. “And I was stupid to let you think that I was talking to someone.” He hesitated. “I am seeing Colonel Flowers now. He’s cool. He doesn’t make me lay on a couch in an office and tell all my secrets. Mostly we go for a run, or shoot some hoops while we talk. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“I’m glad. Is it helping, do you think?”

He nodded. “I don’t feel so crazy all the time, like I need to find a fight just to be able to feel alive.”

“That’s good. I’m real glad to hear it.”

They looked at each other somberly. The harsh lines in Brutus’s face smoothed away. A tiny shaft of hope lit Denise’s heart.

“Brutus, I’ve missed you. So much.”

“I hate us not being together,” he said.

“Me too. I saved all of your voicemails and listened to them over and over.”

A smile split his face. “Honest?”

“I know it’s lame, but I couldn’t delete them.”

“Dee, I kept that pair of panties you left at my place. Never even washed them.”

“Eew.” Her giggle was watery. “That so gross.”

“I’m pathetic.” There was a note of aching hope in Brutus voice. “Can we … Do you think we could try again? I love you. I love you so much that the last month has made me feel like I’m only half alive. I don’t think I can go on like this.”

A tremor went through her, joy and relief, and something so sharp it almost made the tears start up again. “Brutie, would you consider marrying me?”

He laughed, that great roar of a laugh she loved, and dug in his pants pocket. “Sweetheart, I bought this over a month ago and I’ve taken it with me everywhere.” He held out a white box about two inches square. “I was going to ask you to marry me at Christmas.”

She took the box and pushed the tiny button. The ring wasn’t flashy. The gold band was slender and unadorned, the diamond a respectable size, but not huge. It was the most perfect ring she had ever seen. She couldn’t stop the tears now. “You carried it with you everywhere? That’s so crazy.”

Horror creased Brutus’s face. “Oh, hell, Dee, don’t cry.”

“It’s because I’m happy. Brutus, are you sure?”

“Hell, yes. If you promise to marry me, I’ll promise to always talk to you about stuff. No more keeping things back. No more half-truths.”

Her throat worked. “I promise to always give you a chance to talk about stuff.”

He stood up and took the ring from her. “Let’s do this right.” He got down on one knee. “Denise Friedlander, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

She was bawling like a baby now, but smiling through it. “Yes, I will.”

Someone clapped nearby, then several people joined in. Brutus’s face flooded with color when he realized they had a small but interested audience. He cleared his throat and stood up. “She said yes!”

More clapping. Brutus took her left hand, pulled her up, and slid the ring on. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

That was fine with her. They walked through the hospital corridors hand in hand.

“When can we get married?” Brutus demanded.

Denise had already been thinking about it. “How about next Christmas?”

“But that’s a year away!”

“I know. But I want Stella to be my maid of honor, and I think it is going to be a while before she’s able. Besides, it’s a good time of the year for a wedding, don’t you think?”

He thought about it and nodded. “Christmas ought to be good. My family will be able to come, since they’ll have time off for the holidays. Do you think I ought to ask your dad, I mean, Mike, for permission?”

“No. I’m still not sure how I feel about him. He’s not just my sperm donor now, but he’s not my dad, either.” She admired her new ring flashing in the light. “But we can invite him to the wedding. His wife too. She must be a saint.”

They went upstairs to Stella’s room. As they came out of the elevator, Jesse, Stella’s boyfriend, rushed out of the elevator opposite them. He nodded at them and hung back to let them enter the room first.

Stella was awake and she looked even worse now. Denise turned in time to see Jesse stop just inside the door. His face showed horror, then pity, then steely strength. Stella saw him too and held her hands up to hide her face.

“Don’t look at me,” she rasped. “I’m ugly.”

Jesse moved purposefully to the bed. “Sweetheart, that’s pure nonsense.”

Stella lowered her hands. “Look at me,” she demanded. “I look awful, and who knows what I’ll look like in a month.”

“In a month, you’ll look like the woman I love. Burned, yeah, scarred, yeah. But that’s the outside. The real you, the under-the-skin you, is still the same.”

Stella burst into harsh, ragged sobs. Denise squeezed Brutus’s hand as she fought tears again. Jesse turned to them. “Could I have a few minutes with Stel?”

Mike surprised Denise when he stood up from the chair on the far side of the room. She hadn’t even seen him. “Sure.”

She and Brutus followed him out to the hall. He turned to them with eyes just a little wet. “I like that Jesse, I surely do.”

Denise nodded. “He’s a good man. I bet Bodie or any of the other men Stella has been with would have turned tail and run away just now.”

Mike nodded, gaze lingering on Brutus’s paw wrapped around hers. “Y’all get things figured out?”

“Yes, sir.” Brutus lifted their hands to show off the diamond on her fourth finger. “We did.”

Mike smiled. “Well, that’s fine. I’m sure happy for y’all.”

“Thanks.” Denise cleared her throat. “We haven’t set the actual date yet, but we’re thinking around Christmas next year. I want Stella to be my maid of honor. My uncle will be giving me away, but we’d like to have you and Linda come.”

Mike’s face lit with a smile. “Two hours ago, I’d never expected to even talk to you face to face, much less to be invited to your wedding.” Mike’s eyes gleamed with a little more moisture. “Thank you. I’ll be proud to be there.” He extended a hand to Brutus. “If you can let go of that lady for one minute, I’d like to shake your hand. Congratulations.”

Brutus shook. “Thank you. I’m damn lucky.” He smiled down at Denise. “My supper break is over. Will you walk me back to the ambulance?”

“Supper break?” She looked at his uniform. “You have to go back to work? Have you eaten?”

He shrugged. “I have a sub out in the bus with Wolfe. He’ll drive while I eat.”

“Dusty is out in the ambulance? It’s in the thirties. He’ll freeze.”

“No, not him.” Brutus gave Mike a nod and steered her toward the elevators. “He’s from South Dakota. This is like a spring morning to him.”

The elevator was empty. Brutus took advantage of the privacy by kissing her, long and deep, for four floors. When the ding signaled that the doors were about to open, he reluctantly lifted away from her mouth. “Hell, Dee, I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, reveling in the strength of the arms that held her.

“What do you think of asking Flowers to marry us? Thing is, he won’t marry anyone who hasn’t gone through a six-week marriage counselling course.”

Finally, after all these weeks of misery, she was at peace. “I think that is perfect.”

They walked to the back of the hospital where the ambulances were parked. Brutus took her in his arms again.

“Come to my place tomorrow night for supper. My shift will be done earlier than that, but I need to get some sleep.”

She caressed his face. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am. But that’s not why I need sleep.” He bent close to her ear. “I need to rest up because I don’t think we’ll be getting much sleep tomorrow night.”

Her girl parts cheered. “Oh? You have special plans for after supper?”

“Dessert,” he whispered. “I think we’ll have double servings of hot, sweet dessert.”

She could handle that. A lifetime of sharing dessert and life with Brutus was exactly what she wanted.

“I love you, Brutie.”

“I love you, Dee.” Another gentle kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

She stepped back. “I look forward to it.”

The taillights of his ambulance flared red. She leaned her forehead against the glass door and watched him climb in. Her life had changed so much since August. She had gained a sister she’d learned to love. The beginning of a relationship, still careful and fragile, had been forged with the sperm donor she’d always called an asshole. Best and most miraculous of all, she’d found a man to love. Not a perfect man, or the most handsome man, but the one who loved her truly, even though she wasn’t perfect either.

She turned to go back up to Stella’s room, wondering if she could buy some chocolate mousse to bring to supper tomorrow night. After all, they deserved to celebrate, and chocolate mousse was now her very favorite dessert. A secret smile curved her lips when she pushed the button for the elevator. Well, at least it was part of her very favorite dessert.

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

Thank you so much for reading Brutus and Denise’s story. If you would care to, you would be doing me a huge favor if you were to leave a review. If you liked Dusty, you may like to read his story next. It is called Brave Hearts, and can be found here

 

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