THIS: A Simple, Complex Love Story

THIS A Simple, Complex Love Story –––––––– NAOMI RIVERS This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, certain long-standing institutions, organizations, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. –––––––– Copyright © 2022 Naomi Rivers All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. Cover Design: TLK Graphic Solutions –––––––– ISBN 979-8-9873297-0-2 (paperback) ISBN 979-8-9873297-1-9 (ebook) www.naomiriversbooks.com Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Dedication {ONE} {TWO} {THREE} {FOUR} {FIVE} {SIX} {SEVEN} {EIGHT} {NINE} {TEN} {ELEVEN} {TWELVE} {THIRTEEN} {FOURTEEN} {FIFTEEN} {SIXTEEN} {SEVENTEEN} {EIGHTEEN} {NINETEEN} {TWENTY} {TWENTY-ONE} {TWENTY-TWO} {TWENTY-THREE} {TWENTY-FOUR} {TWENTY-FIVE} {TWENTY-SIX} {TWENTY-SEVEN} {TWENTY-EIGHT} {TWENTY-NINE} {THIRTY} {THIRTY-ONE} {THIRTY-TWO} {THIRTY-THREE} {THIRTY-FOUR} {THIRTY-FIVE} {THIRTY-SIX} {THIRTY-SEVEN} {THIRTY-EIGHT} {THIRTY-NINE} {FORTY} {FORTY-ONE} {FORTY-TWO} {FORTY-THREE} {FORTY-FOUR} {FORTY-FIVE} {FORTY-SIX} {FORTY-SEVEN} Sign up for Naomi Rivers's Mailing List About the Author For all who believe in fairy tales. {ONE} T –––––––– Summer 2002 Despite Baltimore’s brutal weather this summer—filled with long days of intense heat and high humidity smothering us like a wet, weighted blanket—I wasn’t going to let a little sweat and discomfort get in the way of my slight obsession with maintaining my athletic body. I was getting my weekly run in around the Inner Harbor, listening to Nelly’s latest hit “Hot in Herre” on my iPod, and trying not to let the pain from the pounding pavement interfere with beating my run time. I’d seen her before, just a passing glance, walking a little white dog. I wasn’t a dog person and didn’t recognize the breed, but it was cute, and she was even cuter. She generally smiled. I smiled and kept running. “Coco noooo!” I heard her screaming. Oh no, the little mutt was loose. Damn it! I ran faster, the dog ran faster, and she ran after the dog. Are dogs supposed to nip at your ankles? “Hey, stop running!” she called out, “she thinks you’re playing with her.” Playing with her? How could the dog get that impression? I was minding my own business. But I slowed down anyway and eventually stopped as the woman caught up to us and apologized for the interruption. Which was the exact moment I became more aware of the throbbing pain in my right thigh. Since I couldn’t run anymore, I walked gingerly along and she and Coco—apparently that was the dog’s name—fell in step without so much as a proper introduction. “I’ve seen you running around here before, you have a nice pace,” she said. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, obviously Coco likes to run too. I believe she finds the leash a nuisance.” “Yeah? Thanks. I do okay. Running is better than trying to keep up with the latest grapefruit, protein, smoothie celebrity fad diets. And Coco and I may be kindred free spirits,” I said, smiling. “Hah, you’re funny,” she replied. “Nice scarf, it’s very intricate. Of course, it’s eight hundred degrees, the extra layer might be overkill,” I joked with her, wanting to keep the conversation going and recognizing the scarf didn’t look like traditional, earthy kente cloth, it had richer red and purple tones. She playfully took a swing at me, “Hey! Take that back. It’s lightweight and it’s one of my favorites.” “I will do no such thing, it is hot as hell out here,” I replied with a smile. “Well, I travel a lot,” she explained. “For work?” I asked. “No, I wish someone else could foot the bill. But I recently returned from three weeks in Ghana, which is where the scarf came from,” she said. “Nice!” She continued, “Even though it can be a headache to navigate customs, visas, and whatnot, there is nothing like experiencing a culture that is both familiar and distant you know?” “Wow, that’s amazing. It sounds like you had a nice time. Did you travel solo? With friends?” “I did have a great time. It was both profound and peaceful. I spent time learning history at places like Cape Coast Castle and the ‘Door of No Return.’ But did you know Ghana has beaches that rival any in Florida? Palm trees, sandy beaches, delicious seafood...,” my new friend said, ignoring my nosy questions about travel partners. “I did not know that. So can I thank your vacation for the glow or is your skin always so smooth?” I asked. “Excuse me?” “I’m sorry.” Oops, hopefully I didn’t offend her. “It’s just that your skin reminds me of the chocolate mocha, with a hint of latte, that I had yesterday.” “Are you always this forward?” she asked quizzically, making direct eye contact. “No, not always,” I replied and looked away. But can you blame me? You’re gorgeous in a natural, I-don’t-know-I’m-gorgeous sort of way. Your dark brown eyes light up when you laugh, and your supple lips confirm your ancestors are from the motherland. I interrupted my own train of thought, “So what kind of dog is Coco?” “She’s a Bichon Frisé.” “A what?” She laughed, “a Bi-chon Fri-sé, they’re very friendly and have never met a stranger.” “Oh, well, that explains a lot.” “Indeed. Not to mention she’s spoiled rotten, prone to seasonal allergies, fiercely protective, and oh by the way loves walks and car rides.” “How long have you had her?” I smiled because she smiled easily talking about her dog. “Almost five years now, I got her when she was only seven months old.” “Wow! So do you have kids, like the two-legged kind?” I asked, laughing. “No, how about you?” she replied. “No ma’am, I have enough kids at school?” “You’re a teacher?” “Yep, I teach art.” I shared that I was an art teacher by day and an artist by night, albeit at times a starving one that opposed her parents’ wishes, but it made me happy. I liked to crank up the music