Going through that with me just made Braden and I closer. When we got back to Scotland, we were pretty much inseparable, and since Ellie and Adam were inseparable, there was too much awkwardness with the four of us living together with Ellie and Braden being brother and sister. Neither of them wanted to hear the sex stuff. So Ellie had moved into Adam’s place a few months after her surgery, and Braden had put his apartment up for rent and moved into Dublin Street with me. A year later he’d actually pre-arranged it with a cab driver, and proposed to me in a cab outside the Bruntsfield Evangelical Church, in reminiscence of how and where we first met. Fast forward to now. After the wedding we’d be flying off to Hawaii for our honeymoon, and when we came back it would be to Dublin Street as Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael. My chest squeezed and I took a deep breath.
Braden had been talking about having kids lately. Kids. Oh wow. I glanced at my completed manuscript lying on my desk. After twenty rejection letters I’d gotten a call from a literary agent who wanted to read the rest of it. I’d just mailed the full manuscript out two days ago. For two years that manuscript had been like a kid to me, and I’d had plenty of freak outs about publishing my parent’s story. Real kids? I’d freaked out when Braden first mentioned it, but he’d just sat there sipping his beer while I silently spiraled out. Ten minutes later he’d looked back at me and said, “Are you done?”
He was used to my freak outs now.
I shot a look at the photograph I had of my parent’s on my desk. Like me and Braden, mom and dad had been passionate about each other, argued a lot, had their issues, but always got through it because of how deeply they felt for one another. They were everything they couldn’t be without the other. Sure it could get rough sometimes, but life wasn’t a Hollywood movie. Shit happened. You fought, you screamed, and somehow you worked like hell to get out the other side still intact.
Just like me and Braden.
I nodded at Ellie and Rhian.
Sometimes the clouds weren’t weightless. Sometimes their bellies got dark and full. It was life. It happened. It didn’t mean it wasn’t scary, or that I wasn’t still afraid, but now I knew that as long as I was standing under it with Braden beside me when those clouds broke, I’d be alright. We’d get rained on together. Knowing Braden he’d have a big ass umbrella to shelter us from the worst of it.
That there was an uncertain future I could handle.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
Acknowledgements
In my new venture into adult fiction I’d like to thank Ashley McConnell and Alicia Cannon, my amazing editors. You’re wonderful, ladies! Thank you for all your hard work (and comments that made me laugh). Also, a massive thank you to Claudia McKinney (a.k.a. Phatpuppy Art) for your talent, for creating art that speaks to me, and mostly for being an unbelievably lovely person to work with.
I also want to thank a few fantastic book bloggers who have not only been incredibly supportive of On Dublin Street since the moment I announced my plans to publish adult contemporary romance, but have supported me almost from the beginning of my writing career— Shelley Bunnell, Kathryn Grimes, Rachel at the blog Fiktshun, Alba Solorzano, Damaris Cardinali, Ana at the blog Once Upon a Twilight, Janet Wallace, Cait Peterson, and Jena Freeth. You guys always astound me with your unbelievable support, enthusiasm and kind words. You make me smile on a daily basis.
I can’t forget to say a huge thank you to my fellow authors, Shelly Crane, Tammy Blackwell, Michelle Leighton, Quinn Loftis, Amy Bartol, Georgia Cates, Rachel Higginson and Angeline Kace. I cannot tell you how much your friendship these past few months has meant to me, and how wonderful it is to have such awesome, kind ladies to turn to for help, advice, and a giggle. There are no words to describe how brilliant you all are.
A rather HUGE thank you to my readers for taking a chance on me, for encouraging me, and for filling my days with big cheesy grins from reading your emails, Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads comments. You’ve no idea how much I appreciate those :)
And finally, a special thank you to my mum, dad, my brother David, Carol, my closest friends, Ashleen (congratulations Mrs. Walker!), Kate, and Shanine, and all my family and friends for being there and being you. Some elements of On Dublin Street are personal to me, and personal to you. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to learn the important lessons, for us it seems to have come upon us all too quickly.
Grief and loss are probably the most fearful creatures that exist. They can teach us to worry about the future, to question the longevity of contentment, and prove us unable to enjoy happiness when we have it. But loss shouldn’t be a fearful creature. It should be a creature of wisdom. It should teach us not to fear that tomorrow may never come, but live fully, as though the hours are melting away like seconds. Loss should teach us to cherish those we love, to never do anything that will result in regret, and to cheer on tomorrow with all of its promises of greatness.
Sometimes strength and courage aren’t in the big things. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is enjoy what we have and be positive about what makes us lucky. It’s easy and un-extraordinary to be frightened of life. It’s far more difficult to arm yourself with the good stuff despite all the bad and step foot into tomorrow as an everyday warrior.
To my family and friends: you’re the strongest warriors I know.