The strongest actions for a woman are to love herself, be herself,
and shine amongst those who never believed she could."
Unknown.
Lulabelle Scott, aka Little Lulu, wasn't so little. As women go, she was about average in height and just a little on the chubby side. But she had been given the hated nickname as a child when she had been more than a little chubby. She’d been bullied and made fun of mercilessly so that food became her panacea against the pain of being an outcast. By the time she had reached the age of majority, she had weighed over three hundred pounds, and it had seemed as if every new diet she had tried only added the pounds.
At the age of twenty-three she was diagnosed with hypertension and hypothyroid, which explained some of the problem. But then came the day the doctor told her she was pre-diabetic and if she didn't get her weight under control she would soon be giving herself shots of insulin. So she had doubled down on the dieting, finding some success with a Mediterranean regimen, and enrolling in aqua aerobics at the local wellness center. As she lived in town and didn’t own a car, all the walking certainly helped as well.
She had managed to lose about seventy-five pounds when she began suffering mini strokes and she went from being scared to being terrified. So she had her first visit with a well known bariatric surgeon nearby and began her journey to regaining her health by having a gastric bypass, which greatly limited her appetite and even caused her to have no appetite at all. For the first time in her life, Lulabelle had to force herself to eat.
That had been nearly two years ago. In that time she had lost much of her excess weight before finally “normalizing” at a little over two hundred pounds. She wasn't satisfied with that, having been determined to get below two hundred for the first time since being a teenager, but she had quickly learned that trying to go any lower simply made her feel bad. And the doctor seemed satisfied with her progress, even going so far as to say she had exceeded the goal he had set for her at two hundred and twenty. So she accepted what was and simply enjoyed being able to wear fashionable clothes made for the larger woman, and learning to accessorize and apply makeup while wearing her bright red hair in a style that made the most of her pretty green eyes and Irish features. And she began pushing back against the nickname she so hated, with limited success. For like a cockle bur, it continued to follow her despite her success in changing her lifestyle and image.
She considered changing her name but decided against it when, upon mentioning the possibility, her grandmother, for whom she'd been named, became hurt, and Lulabelle simply didn't have the heart to hurt her further. She could have asked to be called by her middle name, Estelle, after her other grandmother, but if it was possible it was even worse than Lulabelle. So she'd finally acquiesced to the inevitable and accepted she would always be Lulabelle. But that didn't mean she had to accept being known as Little Lulu!
After earning her bachelors degree in English, she enrolled in a one year certificate program to become a paralegal, and she now worked for the local legal aid clinic alongside attorneys and other paralegals who were passionate about defending those who, being lower income, were otherwise unable to hire an attorney in cases ranging from preparing wills to defending cases heard in civil court. All criminal cases were handled by the public defender's office.
Lulabelle loved her job and sometimes toyed with the idea of applying to law school. But she always decided not to when she considered how much more post college debt she would have incurred. She already had a large enough student loan bill, thank you very much! So she continued to work as a paralegal, earning the praise and admiration of those with whom she worked alongside for her work ethic, her grasp of the legal system, and her unwavering compassion for their clients. She had, however, began to plan for another eventual career change.
Lulabelle had come a long way in her nearly thirty years, but as the “big three oh” approached she found herself wishing more and more than she wasn't going home alone to her lonely apartment. If it hadn't have been for Samson, her very large silver chinchilla Persian cat, she wouldn't have had anyone at all to go home to, and she was despairing of it ever changing.
The truth of it was that Lulabelle, though undoubtedly feminine, didn't know how to be a “girl.” She didn't believe she possessed sex appeal. Not even any obvious feminine wiles. She was simply honest and straightforward. She was direct in most ways and she didn't play games with emotions, neither with those of whom moved within her orbit nor with her own. Remembered humiliation still haunted her even after all these years, making her shy around men. But at least few outside her family ever referred to her as Little Lulu anymore, for which she was eternally grateful.
Then came the day when a new attorney arrived at the Legal Aid clinic. His name was Kyle McGovern. He was older, in his mid to late forties, handsomely distinguished with thick, premature white hair, and kind gray eyes that nevertheless held sharp intelligence and a good humored twinkle. And Lulabelle was instantly smitten.
She routinely arrived before most of the employees but she wasn't too surprised when she arrived one morning to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the music from a local easy listening station playing from a corner speaker. Making her way along the pathway through the cubicles, she entered her own. A plate bearing her name hung beside the opening into a professional spot that she had personalized with a potted plant and a few photos and knickknacks she'd picked up during her infrequent trips.
“Good morning!” she called out as she took off her heavy cardigan and hung it on the back of her seat.
“Good morning!” a male voice responded, and her pulse sped up as she recognized the voice. A moment later Kyle appeared, coffee cup in hand.
“Good morning, Lulabelle. Would you like a cup?”
She smiled, feeling shy, and shook her head.
“Good morning, Kyle. No, thank you. I'm afraid I've never developed a taste for it. Though I love the smell of it brewing.”
A blush rose as she realized she was babbling a little, but he only grinned.
“Me, too. I've noticed you usually arrive early.”
She grimaced.
“I'm an early riser anyway. I figure I can put all that time to good use.”
“And it's appreciated by everyone here. What are you working on this morning?”
“The Campion case. The loan company is playing hardball and Jessica needs all the I's dotted and T's crossed.”
“I've no doubt you'll give her all she asks for.”
She smiled in appreciation.
“Thank you, Kyle.” She cocked her head to one side. “Is there something I can help you with?”
He nodded.
“When you have time. Dana will be leaving on maternity leave this week and I've been tasked with the DeBusk divorce.” Dana was one of the other paralegals in the clinic. “My client is up against the ropes and I want to make sure she isn't denied her fair share. It's bad enough that she had to endure his abuse for so many years while he pocketed most of her income. It's being heard next week and, as with the case you're working on, I need all the I's dotted and T's crossed.”
“You got it. We can get together in the next day or two and see what I can do.”
The door opened and the office receptionist entered carrying two large bags from a fast food restaurant.
“Good morning!” She held up one of the bags. “I come bearing breakfast. Anyone for a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit?”
And so the day began.
Around lunch time Kyle again appeared at the entrance to her cubicle.
“Are you at a good stopping point?”
Lulabelle looked up from the computer where she had been working on a brief and leaned back in her chair.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I need to mull over some wording over before I turn it in to Denise.”
“Good. Then would you like to join me for lunch? I thought we'd go down the street to O'Dwyer's for a quick bite.”
O’Dwyer’s was a family owned Irish pub with a spectacular sandwich menu. An average sandwich usually took her two or three meals to finish, and suddenly a reuben with their to-die-for fries sounded perfect. And it would give her a chance to get to know Kyle better.
“That sounds good. When do you want to go?”
“How about right now?”
Lulabelle grinned and stood to slip into her cardigan. After collecting her purse from the bottom desk drawer, she led the way from the office and down the street.
As expected, O’Dwyer’s was bustling during the lunch hour and they had to wait about ten minutes before a booth became available toward the back. The waitress offered menus, but since they'd already perused a copy while waiting they ordered immediately: Lulabelle a reuben and Kyle a traditional sub. They chatted about the weather, how busy the restaurant was, and generally how their mornings were going until the waitress returned with their lunches, the sandwiches generously stuffed.
“That looks good,” he commented on the reuben as the waitress moved away.
Lulabelle nodded.
“They are. And the fries are to die for.”
“So I've heard.”
They dug in and little was said as they ate. She was able to finish about a third of her sandwich and a few fries. There would be plenty for a couple of more meals.
“Is it not good?” Kyle asked when she set her sandwich down and sat back in her chair.
“It's delicious, but I can't finish one in a single sitting. The rest will be lunch for a couple of days.”
She watched as he finished his own sandwich before he started on his fries.
“Have you always wanted to be a paralegal?” he asked between bites.
“I've wanted to be a number of things,” she responded wryly, “I finally settled on becoming a paralegal as part of my 'grand plan.'”
“And what is that?”
“Well, I started working part time for a defense attorney while I was in college. He defended some pretty unsavory characters and I saw the hell that victims often went through. Most had no one to help them navigate the system. So I decided that I wanted to help those who are at the mercy of the legal system. The victims.” She paused to take a sip of her soda. “After graduation I worked for a while in the prosecutor's office. I had originally thought I'd go to law school but I didn't want to incur any further loan debt. Then I had an opportunity to work with a victim's advocate on a case and realized that that was precisely the direction I wanted to take. I decided to get my paralegal training and gain some legal experience then segue into victim advocacy after a time.”
He smiled.
“That sounds like a great plan. So where are you at on the timeline?”
“I'm waiting for an opening now.”
“Well, I wish you the best. I'm sure you'll be missed when you're gone.”
“Oh, I'm sure you won't have heard the last of me!”
They both chuckled then it was her turn to ask the questions.
“So, have you always been an attorney?”
He nodded before pushing his plate away and taking a drink of his soda.
“You're right,” he responded with a grin, “Those fries are to die for!”
After wiping his mouth with a napkin he nodded.
“Yes. It's all I ever wanted to do. Dad was a police officer and Mom was a dispatcher. I grew up around the law but decided early on my place was in the courtroom. So I took the ROTC route through college, became an JAG officer, did my time then left for the public sector.”
“Were you a prosecutor or defense attorney?”
“Both, at different times, of course. I started out working with a prosecutor in Jacksonville but, like you, I was drawn more toward the victims than the perpetrators. So eventually I became a defense attorney before leaving to work for a legal clinic in Charleston.”
“What brought you here to our little town?”
“I needed a change of scenery. Someplace more laid back. A friend of mine from my Navy days used to live near here and would often talk about what a nice place it was. So I cast my net and lo and behold, I found myself the perfect job in the perfect place.”
Lulabelle smiled.
“Well, we're certainly glad you found us.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent completing the documents needed for the Campion hearing the following day and interviewing potential clients with new cases. Toward the end, Lulabelle found time to meet with Kyle and Dana to review the DeBusk case. She agreed to begin assisting them to enable a smooth assumption of the duties, for which both Dana and Kyle were very appreciative. It was, indeed, proving a difficult case with the client living in fear of her husband's promised retribution.
That Friday a party was held for Dana, who had admitted she wasn't certain she would be able to return to work following the birth of her daughter. Afterward, as Lulabelle was packing up to leave, Kyle stopped by her cubicle on his way out. Though it was the end of the day he was no less impressive in his overcoat and carrying a briefcase. Still, she had become comfortable working alongside him. His calm nature and good humor made for an easy camaraderie.
“Any plans for the weekend?” he asked as she turned out the florescent light over her desk.
“Other than feeding the cat and sitting around in my jammies, nope.”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
She paused, surprised.
“Nothing fancy,” he assured her, correctly reading her hesitation for what it was, “I was thinking of grilling a couple of steaks tomorrow afternoon.” His grin was engaging. “You can always bring the potato salad if it makes you feel better.”
After a moment she returned his smile.
“I do make a mean potato salad,” she assured him, then, “Why not?”
“Good. I'll pick you up tomorrow, say about two or three o'clock?”
“Make it three.”
“What's your address?”
Grabbing a post it note and pen from her desk drawer she scribbled it down and handed it to him. With that, he walked her out.
~
Saturday dawned a bit overcast but the clouds soon dissipated, allowing the sun to make a beautiful appearance. The temperature was warm and Lulabelle decided it was the perfect day for a cookout.
She just wished she felt a little more sanguine about the coming afternoon with Kyle.
Old insecurities were raising their nasty heads. She worked to keep them under control by reminding herself of how far she had come and listing her good attributes like a litany. But she couldn’t help wondering what it was the Kyle saw in her. After all, a lot of people had spent a lot of time over the years giving her reasons no man would ever show interest. And until Kyle had come along there had been precious few to reassure her otherwise.
But as she prepared the potato salad as she’d been taught by her grandmother and mother, using the “ingredients to taste” method, she was determined she wasn’t going to allow her wayward thoughts to ruin what promised to be an enjoyable time spent with a friend. For that is what she felt Kyle and she had become. Not just coworkers but friends. She’d just have to deal with her wish that they could be more.
He rang her doorbell promptly at three and she discovered he looked even better in well worn jeans and a deep blue tee shirt than he did in his business suits. She had dithered over what to wear and after reminding herself that they were just friends, she had settled on bright yellow capris with a coordinating white and yellow top. Her reward came when, with an appreciative smile, he told her how nice she looked before leading her from her apartment to his car with a hand resting lightly against her back.
She was pleasantly surprised to find he didn’t live in a condo or one of the new subdivisions that had sprouted up outside of town. Instead his home was a one-hundred-year-old craftsman within the historic district. The neighborhood street was shaded with sturdy oaks and the lawns were well maintained with attractive curb appeal. Hydrangeas bloomed along the sides of his house while the flower beds fronting the porch were filled with a variety of blooms and greenery with a statue of St. Francis of Assisi tucked to one side. Several ferns hung from hooks along the porch ceiling, and she spied a hummingbird flitting around one of the two potted fuchsia plants beside the front steps.
“It’s lovely,” she told him with a wide smile then waited while he rounded the car to open the door for her. Rising from her seat she felt the serenity of the neighborhood all around her. The air was filled the sounds of children playing and the aromas of grilling coming from other houses.
“Thank you. The previous owner had lived here for nearly forty years before entering assisted living. She had kept the house in good shape, but the gardens were her pride. I liked what she had done and decided I’d just leave things the way they were.”
“I’m glad you did.”
She carried her bowl of potato salad as he once again led her with a hand resting lightly against her back up the walk and onto the porch. Inside she found a home attractively furnished in a rich, masculine décor that somehow managed not to look oppressive.
“Here, let me have that while you make yourself comfortable,” he paused after taking the bowl from her hands, “or would you rather see the rest of the house?”
Lulabelle grinned.
“Oh, I most definitely want to see the rest of the house!”
It wasn’t a large house but it was spacious. One bedroom downstairs with the main bedroom, and an accompanying sitting room, upstairs. The kitchen was open and well appointed, and there was even a small library filled floor to ceiling with books ranging from law journals to dog eared sci-fi paperbacks. Two wing-back chairs with coordinating ottomans flanked a tall, stained glass window with an antique end table between them.
“It used to be her parlor,” he explained, “but I decided to install the shelves and turn it into my reading room.”
“It’s lovely, Kyle,” Lulabelle breathed, genuinely enchanted by it all, “I’m envious.”
“Thank you.” He seemed inordinately pleased with her response. “Well, let’s see about getting dinner.”
The steaks, which he had marinated since that morning, were tender and delicious, and perfectly complimented by her potato salad. A fresh garden salad and glasses of ice tea rounded out the meal.
“I picked up an apple pie from the bakery down the street, if you’re interested.”
She groaned.
“Not just yet. As it is I’ve eaten more than I normally do.”
“I noticed you didn’t finish your steak.”
“It was delicious, I promise you.” She sighed. “I had gastric bypass a few years ago. I’m afraid I’m simply not able to eat as much as I would sometimes like.”
“Ah,” he nodded, “that explains it then. Well, I’ll just package up what you didn’t finish and you can take it home with you.”
She smiled, thankful for his understanding.
“I’d appreciate that. Now, since you cooked I’ll help you clean up.”
“There’s not much to clean, seeing as the steaks were grilled outside, you brought the potato salad and the garden salad was store bought.”
“Then it won’t take long, will it?”
And within thirty minutes they were sharing the beautifully worked wood porch swing while enjoying another glass of sweet tea and the warmth of a late afternoon. Lulabelle was almost painfully aware of his nearness as the swing moved back and forth. She questioned the wisdom of sitting so closely together but seeing as there wasn’t any other place to sit, she sighed inwardly, she guessed she’d just have to endure. A small, secretive smile curled her lips, which she tried to disguise with a sip of tea.
“Why the smile?” he asked with his own bemused smile.
She hoped he’d think her blush was from the heat of the day, though it really wasn’t that hot.
“Oh, I was just thinking how nice it is to sit on a porch and just be for a while.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.”
A man jogged by with a dog on a leash and waved, which they returned with waves of their own.
“Are you acquainted with your neighbors?” she asked.
“Some of them. Most by sight if not by name.”
“You’re lucky. I don’t know any of my neighbors even though I’ve lived in my apartment for three years. It seems someone is always moving in and moving out when the semester changes at the university. Those that stay lead busy lives and aren’t that interested in getting to know anyone else.”
“Do you like living there?”
She shrugged.
“I guess, but truth be known I’d rather live in a place like this. Rental prices have gotten so high, though, that I’m better off staying where I am for the time being.”
Silence fell between them as the swing continued to move.
“I’m glad you decided to have dinner with me, Belle.”
She looked at him in surprise.
“Belle?”
He returned her gaze, his own warm with a smile.
“It’s how I think of you.”
She looked away, feeling pleased and perplexed at the same time.
“Well, that’s certainly an improvement over Little Lulu.”
He chuckled in surprise.
“What?”
“That’s what people used to call me. Still do, some of them.”
“Seems rather cruel.”
She nodded.
“It is. Was.” She sighed. “Some in my family still call me that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Habit, maybe. Or they just enjoy the feeling that they’re putting me in my place.”
“And what is your place?”
“Good question. Away from them I’m a completely different person. But when I’m with them I can’t seem to shed my old role of family black sheep.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah,” she smiled sadly, “I’ve thought about therapy to help me get past it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, there’s not. But I keep thinking what I need to do is just tell them to back off and leave me alone.”
“Why don’t you?”
“That’s a good question.” She grimaced. “I can’t believe I told you all of that.”
“I’m glad you did.” He paused then asked, “Do you mind my calling you Belle?”
She smiled as she met his gaze.
“No. No, I don’t.”
~
The week began with the news that Tina DeBusk had spent a night in the local emergency room after her estranged husband had defied the restraining order and attacked her in the driveway of her sister’s home, where she had been living since the separation. Upon her release she had gone into hiding at one of the women’s rescue shelters, while her husband posted bail and was back on the street looking for her.
It was mid-afternoon when Kyle finally heard from Tina. As one could imagine she was terrified that her husband, Roger, would find her. But Tina had discovered her core of steel and now she was bent on making him pay in every sense of the word. It took some doing on Kyle’s part to convince her that hunting Roger down with a loaded .357 was not the right path to take. Instead, he arranged to meet with her at the shelter on Wednesday, the day before the divorce was to be heard in court, to go over the case a final time.
In the meanwhile, Lulabelle gathered the police records pertaining to Tina’s latest ER visit, as well as photos of her injuries, including her badly injured arm and lacerated face from where he had beaten it into the asphalt. The evidence would be used not only in the divorce hearing but also by prosecutors when Roger’s criminal case finally made its way onto the docket.
When they weren’t working on the DeBusk case, both Lulabelle and Kyle worked on other cases ranging from dealing with debt collectors to contract disputes. For every one case that was settled, it seemed four more appeared. It kept them so busy they had little time to spare for themselves much less each other. But they did manage a quick lunch at O’Dwyer’s and shared a couple of breaks. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was calling her Belle and, after a few knowing grins, others in the office started doing the same. Lulabelle didn’t mind in the least!
Returning to the office after his meeting with Tina on Wednesday afternoon, Kyle called Lulabelle into his office.
“How is she doing?” she asked.
Kyle removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“Scared and mad as hell. She’s ready to put up a fight.”
He looked up at her with a tired grin.
“The lady has some moxie.”
“I’m surprised she let him treat her that way for so long.”
“Well, apparently she was brought up with the fundamentalist belief that once you’re married you become little more than your husband’s possession so no one in her family, other than her sister, offered to help. Somewhere along the line, however, she decided her folks were full of it and started breaking away. Roger didn’t like that and the beatings only got worse the harder she tried to leave. It didn’t help that he was pocketing most of her pay as it was deposited into their joint account. She had to sneak around to open an account in her own name so she could have her deposits sent there. When he found that out it was the same day she moved in with her sister.”
“What’s going to happen after the divorce is final?”
“She’s leaving town and isn’t telling anyone where she’s going.”
“Good for her.”
Kyle nodded and sat back in his chair, resting his head against the fabric while keeping his gaze on her.
“You look tired, Belle.”
“No more tired than you do, Kyle.”
They smiled at one another but before anything more could be said his phone rang and their attention once more focused on the many other tasks at hand.
When closing time came Kyle was still hard at work. Lulabelle knocked on his office door and asked if he needed any help with anything.
“No,” he replied, ‘I’m just about finished here. You go on home.”
“If you’re going to be a while, I’ll be happy to help. Or I can bring you something for dinner.”
Setting down his pen, he leaned his head back and moved it side to side to ease the tension that seemed to have taken up permanent residence. Finally he looked up at her with a half smile.
“Tell you what. Give me fifteen more minutes and I’ll treat you to dinner. In thanks for all the help you’ve given me this week.”
“I was just doing my job.”
“I know that,” he paused, “I was hoping to spend a little time with you outside the office.”
Her eyes seemed to shimmer with pleasure.
“I’d like that.”
He smiled with warm satisfaction.
“Then give me fifteen minutes and decide where you’d like to go.”
They settled on dinner at a popular Japanese steak house where they were entertained as the chef theatrically prepared their excellent meals in front of them. Afterward they stopped at an ice cream shop for dessert before Kyle drove her home. Ever the gentleman, he insisted on walking her to her door.
“I’m glad we went out to dinner,” he said, “I was beginning to think our barbecue last weekend was just a dream.”
She chuckled.
“Nope. It happened. Then the week happened and, well, here we are.”
“Yes, here we are.”
He waited until she had unlocked her door before gently turning her to face him.
“I’m glad I met you, Belle.”
She smiled softly into his eyes.
“I am, too.”
“Can I…?”
She nodded and stepped nearer.
“Yes, you can.”
The kiss was tender and fleeting at first, before their lips met with increasing demand. It was the sound of a neighbor’s door slamming shut that finally brought them back to the present. Kyle held her for a moment before brushing a final kiss onto the top of her head.
“I guess I better go,” he murmured. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
Lulabelle nodded as she regretfully pulled away.
“Yes, it will be.” She brushed her hand across his chest. “Be careful going home.”
He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips.
“I will. Good night, Belle.”
Kyle had already gone to the courthouse when Lulabelle arrived the next morning, so she dove straight into her backlog of cases and the morning passed quickly. Shortly after lunch he finally returned, tired but satisfied with the outcome of the DeBusk case.
“Tina got more than she asked for,” he told her when he stopped by her cubicle on the way to his office, “The judge took one look at the photos and that was all it took. She hardly needed me there at all.”
“I’m happy for her.”
“Yeah, well, Roger isn’t. He was making some pretty nasty threats and had to be led from the courtroom.”
“I hope she’ll be okay.”
“She said she’s leaving this afternoon. Said she already had her things packed and in the car when she came to court.”
“Then I wish her good luck wherever she’s headed.”
“Kyle,” a voice called from the front desk, “there’s a call waiting for you on line two.”
“Thanks!” he replied then winked at Lulabelle. “Talk to you later.”
It was closing time when a man wearing a rumpled suit entered the office demanding to see Kyle McGovern.
“What is your name, sir?” the receptionist asked, all professional courtesy and little else.
“Roger DeBusk.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, and I don’t need one. Get him out here. Now!”
“One moment while I call….”
“Never mind. I’ll find the bastard myself.”
Roger began to push his way through the small crowd of people who had been waiting their turn for service, ignoring the receptionist’s demands that he stop. He stomped his way through the room of cubicles, glaring into each one as he searched, before finally reaching the doors to the attorney’s individual offices. When he found the one with Kyle’s name on it, he threw the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall. Inside, the couple meeting with Kyle stumbled back in shock then fear when Roger pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket.
“You lousy son of a bitch!” he growled and advanced on the desk.
Kyle slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving Roger’s as he motioned the couple to stand back.
“Mr. DeBusk,” he began but stopped when the gun waved toward him.
Outside in the main office, Lulabelle listened in horror as Roger’s rampage began to ramp up even further. His rage escalated each time Kyle tried to reason with him. Once the receptionist called 9-1-1 all was silent in the outer office.
Suddenly the gun went off and screams were heard as people ducked for cover or ran out the front door. In Kyle’s office Roger continued his rampage and the gun went off again. Lulabelle was terrified at what those shots meant. Then she felt her own rage well up. She’d grown up bullied. She had suffered at the hands of those who demeaned her and physically tormented her. She’d seen what this particular bully, and others like him, had done to someone they were supposed to cherish. And now she was afraid of what he was doing to the man she loved. Her attention razor focused on the sound of Roger’s voice as she stepped out of her cubicle and began to make her way toward Kyle’s office.
“Belle!” someone whispered urgently, “Belle! What are doing?”
But she didn’t stop. The odor of cordite was heavy in the air as she neared the office. She couldn’t see inside as Roger’s bulk filled the door. Luckily his back was to her so he didn’t know she was approaching. He didn’t see her pick up an empty task chair. Had no idea she was even there until she swung the chair and hit him in the back of the head with it, sending him crashing to the floor. His last sight was of her standing over him, bringing the chair down to crash onto his head once again, instantly knocking him unconscious.
There was a moment of stunned silence before the couple cowering inside the office made their escape. Kyle was slumped against the wall with blood pooling from his shoulders. Upon seeing her, he slid to the floor and fell unconscious. When the police arrived it was to find Lulabelle tearfully trying to stop the bleeding from two bullet wounds. After cuffing Roger, they lifted her away so that the paramedics could treat Kyle, but she wouldn’t allow them to remove her from the office until a stretcher was brought in to transport the wounded man to the ambulance outside. Moments later it left with lights flashing and siren blaring.
It was some time before the police were finished questioning her and she was allowed to leave. Not having any other way of getting to the hospital, she begged a ride from a coworker and was soon sitting in a waiting room outside of surgery. Kyle had been shot twice, once in each shoulder but she was given no other information as she wasn’t a family member. Others from the office began to trickle in, all wanting to know more than they were being told. The office manager called his family and was told that they were on their way, then they could only wait.
Kyle’s parents and brother arrived around midnight and were immediately taken to ICU, where he was recovering. After a few minutes they returned to the waiting room.
“He’s going to be okay,” his father told them, “It’s serious but he’s going to be okay.” He paused then his eyes, so like Kyle’s, fell on Lulabelle. “Are you Belle?”
She nodded, tears in her eyes.
“Yes.”
“He said you saved his life.”
She could only shake her head as the tears started to fall.
“He’s asking for you.”
Suddenly his mother was holding her and crying, saying “thank you” over and over, as his father rested his hand on Lulabelle’s red hair.
“I told the doctors that you are allowed to see him whenever you wanted.”
Lulabelle smiled through her tears.
“Thank you so much, Mr. McGovern.”
“It’s John, and this is Mae. Now, go on back. We’ll wait for you out here.”
The nurse was waiting at the door.
“Five minutes,” she murmured and Lulabelle nodded as she entered the room.
The lights were subdued and there were machines beeping and making other strange noises, but she noticed nothing but the man lying on the bed. As she drew closer, his eyes fluttered open then focused on her. A weak smile curled his lips.
“Hey there, champ.”
At that she sobbed and moved to the side of the bed.
“I was so scared.”
He nodded slightly.
“That makes two of us.”
“I just knew he’d killed you.”
“He was going to, but apparently he wanted me to die slowly.”
“I wanted him to die. Period.”
He flipped his hand over in invitation and she slid hers into it until his fingers were wrapped around hers. He gave it a weak squeeze.
“Thank you.”
Gaining control of herself, Lulabelle managed a small grin.
“I guess this means you owe me lunches at O’Dwyer’s for the next year or so, right?”
“Just lunches?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking breakfasts and dinners, too.”
She cocked her head to one side.
“Too?”
“Yes.”
She could see he was trying not to fall asleep.
“Just get some rest,” she told him and reached up to brush the hair from his forehead, “We’ll talk more later.”
“Don’t go. Stay...a little longer.”
“I will.”
He was just about asleep when his eyes opened one final time.
“Breakfast. Every morning.”
She smiled and leaned forward to press a tender kiss on his lips.
“Every morning.”
The End.
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Reviewed by Lauren itall
7/8/2026
Hi! I just read your story, and I’m obsessed! Your writing is incredible, and I kept imagining how cool it would be as a comic. I’m a professional commissioned artist, and I’d love to work with you to turn it into one, if you’re into the idea, of course! I think it would look absolutely stunning. Feel free to message me on Discord (laurendoesitall) Instagram (elsaa.uwu). Can’t wait to hear from you!
Best,
lauren
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
3/15/2026
Once again, you brought a lot of your story into this story. And I found it rather long falling into place like the usual romance story where everything is perfect drawing a couple together, even if at first seem mismatched.
But the divorce case was not only a way for Kyle and Belle to get to know one another, but a way for you to turn the tables on the reader and put Belle in charge. A nice twist.
Lulabelle Scott, aka Little Lulu, wasn't so little. As women go, she was about average in height and just a little on the chubby side. But she had been given the hated nickname as a child when she had been more than a little chubby. She’d been bullied and made fun of mercilessly so that food became her panacea against the pain of being an outcast. By the time she had reached the age of majority, she had weighed over three hundred pounds, and it had seemed as if every new diet she had tried only added the pounds.
