Authors: Donya Lynne
Tags: #workplace romance, #new adult, #psychological romance, #donya lynne, #strong karma, #mark strong
Now Rob laughed. “Really? Is that what
they’re calling it now? Agreeable? You practically grew horns and a
forked tail.”
“I did not.”
Rob took her hand. “Okay, maybe they were
little tiny horns. And they were kinda cute on you.”
“Just wait till I hit six months,” she said.
“You’ll want to move out.”
Rob shook his head. “Never.”
The love between Rob and Holly warmed Mark’s
heart. For so long, he and Rob had sworn they would never fall in
love. Never get married. Never have kids. They’d been avowed
bachelors.
Now Rob was married and expecting, and Mark
was on his way.
If only he could simply get past the one tiny
roadblock impeding his progress.
“So, what’s this about a plan you two have
for me?” he asked.
Holly’s face brightened. “Well, Rob explained
to me that you’re having trouble talking to Karma about the wedding
and that you have these panic attacks every time you try.”
Mark angled his head at Rob. “He did, did
he?”
Rob cleared his throat, chagrined, as he
fought back a sheepish smile.
“Rob tells me everything,” Holly said
dismissively. “But that’s not the point. The point is, it gave me
an idea.”
“Well, it gave
us
an idea,” Rob
added.
Holly nodded. “Right. Us. This was kind of a
joint effort.”
Rob took over. “See, Holly’s heard of this
thing called immersion therapy where people are gradually exposed
to the very thing they have a phobia to.”
“Patients look at pictures of what they
fear,” Holly said, “or they talk about it, or sit in the same room
with it . . . or even watch movies which contain the
object of their fear.” A gleeful smile broke over her face, and she
dashed to the entertainment center. When she returned, she was
holding a stack of DVDs. “So, Rob and I are immersing you.” She
started reading off movie titles. “
Father of the Bride, The
Wedding Singer
,
My Best Friend’s Wedding
,
Bridesmaids
, and
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
, which is
my personal favorite.”
Mark glanced at Rob. “You’re serious?”
“I told you I wasn’t sure this was a good
idea, honey,” Rob said to Holly.
“Nonsense. This’ll work. I know it. Now,
sit.” Holly pointed to the couch. “I’m making Cuban ham sandwiches
for lunch. Then we’re ordering out for dinner. We’re doing
this.”
Mark glanced warily from Holly to Rob, “Is
she possessed?” He pretended that he was scared to touch her as she
passed him on her way to the TV.
Rob chuckled, “I told you, man. It’s the
hormones.”
“You two, hush.” Holly threw them both
warning glances. “Mark needs this.”
This.
An intervention. Only not for
drugs.
He hesitantly rounded the couch and plopped
down, waiting as Holly loaded the DVD.
“Do you think this will really work?” He had
his doubts, but anything was worth a try. And it wasn’t like he had
anything better to do today. He’d been running all over the eastern
third of the country for a month. He could use a day on the couch.
But it would be nice if he could return home tomorrow and be able
to surprise Karma with a wedding date. This immersion therapy might
not work
that
fast, but even if it only helped a little,
that was better than nothing.
“I don’t know,” Rob said. “It could work.
Then again, we might just spend the day watching a bunch of wedding
movies and have nothing to show for it other than losing our man
cards.”
He relaxed into the couch. “Why couldn’t I
have been afraid of clowns?”
“Clowns? Man, no way. That would suck.”
“Oh, because being afraid of weddings doesn’t
suck?” He speared Rob with a frustrated glance.
“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point.” Rob
reached for the newspaper, which Holly immediately snatched from
his hand.
“No. You.” She snapped her fingers. “Watch.”
She pointed to the TV as the opening credits began running on a
backdrop of champagne bubbles.
“Hey, why do I have to watch? Mark’s the one
with the phobia.”
Holly dropped the newspaper on the kitchen
counter as she headed for the fridge to start lunch. “As the
pre-designated best man and Mark’s best friend, it is your duty to
sit with him through this,” she said. “You have to help him.”
Rob turned around and looked over the back of
the couch. “Help him how?”
“By occasionally reminding him that he needs
to imagine himself in the place of the actors playing the grooms in
these movies and by pointing out things that could be triggers as
they come up.” She spoke as if this all should have been apparent
to him already.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. Now, be quiet and turn around. The
movie’s starting.”
“This had better work,” Rob grumbled to Mark
as he faced the TV again.
Mark leaned toward him. “You’re telling me.
But, man, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes for the next nine
months.”
Rob uttered a soft huff. “When Karma’s
pregnant and you’re up to your nads in raging female hormones and
morning sickness, I’ll remind you that you said that.”
Holly clapped twice from the kitchen. “Quiet!
You two need to take this seriously. This is Mark’s future we’re
talking about.”
Mark exchanged a secret smile with Rob as he
shifted back to his side of the couch.
“Yes, ma’am,” Rob said. “Taking things
seriously in here.”
Holly sighed but didn’t reply.
Mark turned his attention to the movie as the
camera panned to Steve Martin, wearing a tuxedo, sitting in a chair
among the aftermath of what was obviously his character’s
daughter’s wedding.
In less than twenty seconds, as Steve began
comparing getting married to a wedding, something clicked inside
Mark’s mind.
A wedding wasn’t the same as getting married.
One was an event, the other a deliberate action. Getting married
was what happened between two people who were in love. To get
married was to dedicate yourself—heart, soul, and spirit—to another
person and to receive that same promise in return.
A wedding was just where that vow took
place.
In other words, he was through the hard part.
In his heart, he was already married to Karma. So why the hang-up
over the easy part? When he really thought about it, a wedding was
like putting a period at the end of a sentence. The sentence, which
took all the work, was already finished. A period just made it
official and easy to read.
But phobias didn’t care how easy something
was supposed to be. They hit where it hurt. Where they could do the
most damage. Phobias held no compassion for the victim. And didn’t
he know it.
Steve Martin continued his soliloquy about
his character’s daughter and her new last name.
Banks-MacKenzie.
He’d never asked Karma whether she wanted to
take his last name or hyphenate hers. He’d just assumed she would
be Karma Strong after they got married. But maybe she wanted to be
Karma Mason-Strong.
As the movie’s opening narration continued,
more lights went on inside Mark’s head. Steve Martin was playing
the father of the bride, a role Karma’s dad played in real life. No
wonder John was so against him. Mark was stealing his daughter.
Maybe John had known even before Mark did that Karma’s heart was
lost to him forever. Maybe it was like a fatherly sixth sense kind
of thing.
And just like George Banks in
Father of
the Bride
, John would do anything to keep his daughter
as . . . well . . . his daughter. He
wouldn’t want Karma running off to get married. Because that would
mean she was all grown up. Her own person. No longer in need of her
dad.
Mark knew how close Karma and her dad were.
She was the very definition of a daddy’s girl, and not just because
she thought so, but because John thought so, too. He’d been her
rock until Mark came along. Now Mark was her rock. Mark had
replaced her dad in a lot of ways. He had become the most important
man in Karma’s life, a role John had filled until last November,
when Mark came back and gave Karma’s then-fiancé, Brad, the
boot.
It all made sense now. John had liked Brad,
because on a subconscious level, he’d known Brad wasn’t anyone he
needed to worry about. Brad never would have been her rock. But
Mark was, which made him the enemy.
As the movie got underway, his mind churned
over the revelations firing inside his head. It was like a dozen
tiny but monumental connections were being made. All from less than
five minutes of a movie.
Maybe there was something to this immersion
therapy idea. He still wasn’t sure he could discuss a wedding date
without losing his lunch, but the clarity he was obtaining about
everything else was certainly worth the effort and couldn’t
hurt.
For the next seven hours, he lost himself
inside the movies the same way he’d done with all the books,
magazines, and online forums he’d read years ago when learning
about women, what they wanted, and how to give them pleasure.
Watching the movies was just another type of research.
Holly, emotional from her fluctuating
hormones, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue at the end of The
Wedding Singer and laughed herself to a different type of tears
while watching Bridesmaids.
But it was
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
that gave Mark his most powerful reaction of the night. Toula
reminded him so much of Karma his heart actually hurt. Toula
started off as an invisible wallflower, a beauty hidden behind
large glasses, a bad haircut, and frumpy clothes. A plain
caterpillar. And then she metamorphosed into a butterfly.
Beautiful, strong, and vivacious.
Just like his Karma.
And then he was suddenly missing her so bad
it hurt. He’d been gone a week, and, right now, he needed to see
her more than anything. He wasn’t supposed to head out until
tomorrow morning, but that wasn’t soon enough. He really needed to
be with Karma tonight. If nothing else, these movies had reminded
him of how much he loved her . . . how much his soul
needed hers to feel complete.
He was about to excuse himself to go home
when Rob threw out his arms toward the TV.
“Okay, I can’t take any more of this!” His
hands curled into fists.
“What?” Holly appeared affronted.
“This! These movies! One chick flick after
another after another.” Rob grabbed a car magazine on the coffee
table and aggressively waved it in the air. “I need speed. Action!
Car chases and guns!” He stood and paced.
“This . . .” He flung his arm toward the TV. “This
is about to drive me insane. At least give me a nude-booby
shot!”
“Hey, this was
your
idea,” Mark said,
reminding him how this all got started.
“It was more Holly’s idea than mine!” Rob
yelled. Then he realized what he’d said and how he’d said it and
darted a worried glance toward Holly.
She looked like she was on the verge of
crying.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Rob rushed to her chair and knelt in front of her, taking her face
in his hands. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”
Wow, those hormones were powerful little
fuckers. Mark needed to remember that.
He scooted to the edge of the couch. “Hey,
you guys did this for me. Holly . . .” He raised his
chin toward her as she warily met his gaze. “You did good.”
Rob glanced over his shoulder. “What’s that
supposed to mean?”
Mark stood. “It means that I miss my fiancée.
I need to go home.
“You mean . . .” Holly smiled.
“Did our immersion therapy work?”
He smiled. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk
about the wedding without having a panic attack just yet, but I’m a
lot closer to being ready than I was eight hours ago. This was a
big help. Thank you.”
Rob helped Holly up, and the two followed him
to the door, where they said warm good-byes. At least it appeared
Rob was out of hot water.
For now.
In his rental car, Mark checked the time. Not
quite seven thirty.
He pulled out his phone and sent Karma a
text.
I’m on my way home.
A few seconds later, she replied.
Thought
you weren’t coming home till tomorrow.
Tomorrow’s not soon enough. I miss you.
Due to the nature of this week’s trip, he was
supposed to fly home in the morning. He didn’t normally fly between
Chicago and Indianapolis, because when everything was taken into
consideration, including driving to and from the airports, checking
in, grabbing any checked luggage (and this time, he’d checked a
suitcase), and especially O’Hare’s propensity for flight delays, it
was faster to drive three hours than take a short, forty-five
minute flight.
I’ll gladly eat the airfare to get back to
you tonight. See you soon. I love you.
I love you, too. Drive safely.
Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to discuss their
wedding, but he was more than ready to hold Karma in his arms
again. After all, he already saw her as his wife. In his heart,
they were married. Which meant the hard part was over, right? All
he needed was the period at the end of the sentence to make it
official.
But as he hit I-94 out of Chicago, something
told him there was still one roadblock in the way of his happiness.
One piece of the puzzle he still hadn’t dealt with, and that until
he did, he wouldn’t be able to move forward.
And he had a sinking feeling in his gut he
knew exactly what that final piece was.
Love is the ability and willingness to allow those
that you care for to be what they choose for themselves, without
any insistence that they satisfy you.
-Wayne Dyer
Freshly showered, Karma pulled on a pair of flannel
shorts and a T-shirt then climbed into bed. She fluffed her pillow
and piled it on top of another, then set both against the headboard
and relaxed. It was almost 10:00, and Mark would be home any
minute.