It's a Love Thing by Cindy C Bennett Page B

a
wonderful life, partly due to you. My wife Wendy is amazing. She's
kind and generous, and of course, I have my beautiful
daughters."

    "I'm glad. Did you ever
finish reading Crickets on the
Hearth ?”

    I laughed. “Yes.” I didn’t tell her
I’d read it at least fifteen times that first year, each time
remembering her and our time together. And up until I’d met Wendy,
it’d been part of my summer reading regimen.

    "Are you happy?" I asked.
    "Yes. Very much so."
    "And I'm guessing now that my wish has
been granted, I'll never see you again." It was a statement rather
than a question. I knew the answer.
    "Yes, your wish has been granted. And
no, you'll never see me again," she said. "I can't thank you enough
for what you did for me, Pete. Every time I look into my children's
sweet little faces, I think about what I almost gave up." She
pinched her tiny little eyes shut. "I'll be eternally grateful to
you for that."
    "I'm grateful for all you did for me,
Tink." I said.
    "I really should be going. The baby
will want her dinner any minute now. Good bye, Pete."
    I nodded. "Good bye, Tink."
    I never wished on another star after
that night. Knowing Tink was safe and happy gave me incredible
peace.
    But I never forgot her. A very wise
faery once told me that you never forget your first
love.
    She was right.

    The End

    About the Author of Pete & Tink
    Sherry Gammon is the author of
Unlovable, book one in the Port Fare series, and a soon to be
released YA novel titled Soul In Peril. She lives in Upstate NY
with her family and two spoiled pooches! Unlovable, her first
novel, is being adapted into a movie.

    Other Books by Sherry
Gammon
    Unlovable
    And the upcoming
Unbelievable

    Find more about Sherry
at:
    http://www.wordpaintingsunlimited.blogspot.com/
    [email protected]
    https://twitter.com/#%21/SherryGammon
    https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Sherry-Gammon/12926010381153

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Contents

    Temptation

    Take This Job and Shove
It. That was my mother’s ring tone for her
boss, Mr. Stein, and it was ringing . . . again. Not the original
version by Johnny Paycheck, but the remake by David Allen Cole.
Once upon a time I actually enjoyed that song. Now it just meant
mom was leaving . . . again. What I couldn’t understand was if she
hated her job as an antiquities curator so much then why was she
always leaving me for it, and why in God’s name had she dragged us
halfway across the country just to keep it?
    “ Can you grab the last
couple boxes, hon? I have to take this.”
    Of course she did, she always did. I
peered into the back of the moving truck and saw the last four
boxes stacked against the back wall. It had only taken all day to
get this far and the sun was already starting to set. To be honest,
I was impressed Mr. Stein had managed to wait so long to call her
in.
    Hoisting a box labeled ‘bathroom,’
easily weighing a million tons into my arms, I stumbled haphazardly
down the gang plank of the truck. Reaching the bottom of the ramp,
I promptly tripped over my own feet and fell into the street where
I was met with a blaring horn. The box went flying and all manner
of embarrassing items spewed across the street. Naturally the car
idling in the middle of the road less than five feet from me had to
have the most gorgeous guy on earth behind the wheel. Dark wavy
hair fell into his eyes as he leaned to roll down his window.
Annoyance flew from his heart stoppingly blue eyes like laser beams
as he shouted, “Watch it.”
    Without another word—no ‘are you all
right?’ or ‘do you need any help?’—he pulled away and drove past
the plethora of items scattered around me. Jerk. Gathering up
makeup items, toiletries, and oh, fun… my toothbrush, I kept one
eye on the car as it slowed just past my house and pulled into the
next driveway. Evidently the jerk lived next door, why
not?
    When I shoved open the front door,
nearly losing my grip on the box from hell a second time, my mother
was just