Effortless With You (33 page)

“Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s loved you for a while.” She nods up toward the house. “Your Dad and I have been wondering how long it would take.”

“For?”

“For you to love him back.”

I push the swing back and it lets out a loud creak. “Not that long once I figured out …” I search for words.

“Who you are?” Mom offers.

I sigh. She’s right. The moment I figured out how to be myself I realized just how much Justin meant to me. She drops my hand and wraps her arm around me, pulling me close.

I don’t deserve this from her.

“Mom,” I begin. “I’m sorry.” I point at the gate to the secret garden. “I’ve been absolutely horrible to you. I didn’t even know this part existed. How have you put up with me?”

“I’ve always loved you. Lucy,” she grasps my hand, “you are effortless for me to love. You always have been and you always will be.” She nods toward the garden. “This garden is all about my growing love for you. Every plant, every speck of dirt, every stone and light, it all leads to the source of my love for you.”

She stands up and tugs on my hand to follow past the small wooden gate into the little courtyard garden where a red, wooden box nestles among ferns. She opens the box and takes out a palm-sized stone, handing it to me.

“I love you” is written across the stone in orange painted scribbles. I gasp as the memory of sitting with Dad on the front porch surfaces. I’d had the idea to paint rocks for Mom. This was the first rock I’d made for her, hoping she’d make me an “I love Lucy” in return. I’d wanted proof; I wanted her to love me back so badly. I peer back into the box. It’s filled with the rest of the rocks I made that day. There are rocks with drawings of the sun, flowers, hearts, random words, or simply stripes.

She kept them all.

I bite my lip. I really, really don’t deserve this.

Mom reaches over and hugs me. “I didn’t want to show you. You’d have hated me for it.”

I shake my head as a tear slides down my cheek. “How can I hate you for this?”

“You must know Lucy that
you
were the reason I got better. Not this garden.” I shake my head and she gives me a squeeze. “Honey, you were my reason to keep living through the darkness. My favorite part of every day was seeing your face. I lived for your smiley, goofy grin and when you used to bring me breakfast on the couch.” She pauses, wiping away her tears. “The only thing I could actually feel was when you put your hand on my arm or kissed me goodnight. You were my reason to try, every day. I tried for you.”

“So, it wasn’t my fault?”

“You were the cure, not the cause. That fault was out of everyone’s control. My father’s death triggered the depression, just two weeks before you were born. Not you.” She wraps her arms around me and we sway. “I’m so sorry, Lucinda. I thought you knew.”

I pull away from her and look into her blue eyes. “I do now. Thank you.” I hug her tightly. “I love you so much, Mom. Always have. I hope you know that too.”

She nods and taps the wooden box of rocks. “I know. I’ve always known. I’ve been lucky enough to have reminders.” She takes off her engagement ring and holds it out to me. It’s a pearl on a band with small embedded diamonds. “Let this be your reminder, Lucy.”

“No way. Dad will kill me.”

“He’d love it. Trust me. Plus, he’s wanted to buy me a
real rock
for some time now. This will just give him an excuse.” She places the ring in my palm and closes my hand around it. “Take it. I want—no—I need you to have it.”

I nod and slide the ring onto my right ring finger. Its warmth hugs my finger tight.

“Thank you.”

“Just promise me one thing?” She pulls me into one last hug. “Remember you are effortless to love.”

She gives me a long squeeze before walking back up the pathway, somehow understanding I need time alone. I sit at the little table in her secret garden and thumb through the box of rocks. A purple asymmetrical face smiles back at me. My entire life circles back to these rocks. Once again, I’m a little girl who loves her mother. Except, this time, there is a huge difference. This time I know she loves me back.

A light smile parts my lips and a light laugh follows. How did I get here? A disastrous summer turns into the most enlightened time of my life.

I found my family again.

I found Justin.

And, more importantly, I found me.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

It’s impossible to begin this section of my novel without pausing to say, whoa, I’ve got so many people to thank!

Always first, readers, thank you for diving into my head and making it to my Acknowledgments page. I hope you love Lucy and Justin as much as I do.

To Greg, my husband, who’s done so many dishes and taken our daughters out on many “Daddy and me” dates all to help make my dream come true.  He’s dried my tears, stood between me and the delete button, and has supported every word I’ve typed. He’s welcomed Lucy and Justin into our family, despite how crazy I sound when I’m talking about them. And, of course, he provides endless inspiration for and proof of love. Thank you, Greg, for being my everything.

Thank you to my daughters, for inspiring me to be myself and putting up with protein bars for breakfast, probably a bit too often.

Thank you to my family, Mom, Dad, Anabel and David, for always believing in me, putting up with stupid stories about bugs and flamingos, and keeping me grounded.

Thank you to my friends, for listening to my crazy journey of publication, dragging me away from my laptop when you knew I needed a break, “liking” my pages, and putting up with my links. Your encouragement has kept me going, truly.

A huge thank you to my super-agent, Jamie Bodnar Drowley, for dealing with my crazy emails where I forget question marks, being the easiest person to talk to on the phone, and always giving me great advice. I couldn’t have done this without you. So much love for my agent!

Thank you to my critique partners, Fiona McLaren and Kelley Harvey, for loving Lucy and Justin and giving priceless feedback and time that gave my novel life. Also, a huge shout out to The Off Beats, Katrina Sincek, Catherine Scully, Abby Cavenaugh, Amy Cavenaugh, Kelley Harvey, and Fiona McLaren, who have provided endless support, chats, and laughs on this road to publication. And, Nikki Urang, thank you for our happy hours, logistical conversations, and correlating freak outs. There is no other author I’d want to walk through this oddly parallel journey with.

To Rebecca Yarros and Cassie Mae, thank you for your daily encouragement, wisdom, and reality checks. Every word has meant so much to me.

To my editors, Mandy Schoen and Kate Brauning, thank you for loving my novel as much as I do and for challenging me. It definitely paid off.

To Georgia McBride and the team at Swoon Romance, thank you for all your hard work in making my dream become a reality. You’ve all been amazing!

Lastly, but perhaps most important, I thank God for kicking me in the butt, telling me to try, and not letting me give up.

Oh, and thank you dark chocolate and Earl Grey tea. You helped me get each word to the page. For real.

Lizzy Charles

When Lizzy Charles isn’t scrambling to raise her two spunky toddlers or caring for premature and sick babies as a neonatal intensive care nurse, she’s in a quiet corner writing or snuggled up with a novel and a few squares of dark chocolate. She married her high school sweetheart, a heart-melting musician, so it’s no surprise she’s fallen in love with writing contemporary YA romance novels.

Look for HOW TO DATE A NERD, a young adult contemporary romance, coming from Swoon Romance on September 24, 2013

HOW TO DATE A NERD

Cassie Mae

Chapter 1

If I say I’m sick, don’t kiss me!

Rules of keeping up your popular rep:

Number one, the shorter the skirt, the better.

Number two, natural hair color is a thing of the past.

Number three, high heels are an extension of your foot. To go without them would be like losing a toe.

Number four, guys are disposable, and should never be used more than once or for an extended period of time.

And number five, never
ever
reveal you collect
Star Wars
memorabilia, you know every line to
Lord of the Rings
, and you actually know the birthdates of all the
Harry Potter
cast members.

Yeah. I’m a total closeted nerd.

I’m not cool with pity glares in the hallways, painful jabs, and social scars. No thanks. It’s much easier to keep my true nature hidden beneath layers of eyeliner, skimpy outfits, and even I must admit to myself, a rockin’ body. Though the push-up bras tend to do most of the work.

Welcome to high school. Where everyone tries to be someone else.

Well … everyone except Zak.

Here’s the DL on my next-door neighbor. He’s labeled King Dork because he wears nerdy shirts and talks in geek code. His front pocket of the plaid overshirt he wears always has at least three or four Pokémon cards in it. And if it’s not that, then it’s a graphing calculator he has to keep shoving down so it doesn’t fall out. There’s a
Star Wars
keychain always clipped to the back of his holey jeans and he sometimes carries a Wii controller in his back pocket.

And I’ve got it bad for the boy.

It’s not just the fact he was the one to introduce me to the awesomeness of the Elvish Language, the hidden mysteries of World of Warcraft, and the magical world that lies beyond Platform 9¾, but really, he pulls off sexy geek so damn well! His dark, like super dark eyes and his matching hair that flops around his forehead when he’s laughing too hard, combined with his nice height, swoon … he’s like the Peter Parker of my high school.

I may be the only person who finds his nerdiness just so hecka irresistible. Everyone else treats him like some dead bug on the sidewalk. I know how it is, and I have no idea how he handles all the verbal abuse.

Middle-school Zoe—Geek Zoe, I like to call her—was made fun of and tormented so much she spent most nights crying into her pillow. High school was the break I was totally looking for. A chance to freakin’ rewrite myself into someone who’s socially acceptable. Summer before school started, I grabbed loads of magazines and watched all those teen movies that so aren’t as awesome as
Star Trek
, but they were for my status education. And apparently, I was doing this popularity thing all wrong. I gotta be like a major bitch to people, and I’ll end up getting the hottest guy in the end.

Took some work, but I think I got it down. I should win an Oscar with how awesome I am at the fake personality.

But freak, it’s been two years since I was de-geek-ified, and I still find myself trying to stifle the urge to buy Comic-Con tickets, and try not to act jealous when I see Zak dressing up for the event.

Don’t get me wrong, my life is pretty darn fantastic and a whole heap of a lot better than the alternative, which is getting my emotional butt kicked around. So the fake persona is definitely worth it.

There’s a huge party tonight. Lots of alcohol and boys, but like every party night, I try to show off this hot bod first to my neighbor, who can see straight into my open window.

I strip down to my underwear so Zak can get a good look and turn up the music on my iPod. It’s pathetic, I know. I’m trying way too hard to get his attention, but I don’t care. It’s not like I can flirt with him at school. Social-suicide bomb right there.

Stealing glances out my window into his, I flaunt around my room pretending like I’m getting ready for the party. But I can’t get a good view of him and I don’t want to be more obvious than I already am.