Seven Years of Bad Luck (5 page)

My head spun, and my gut churned. I told her to go screw herself and hung up. I had never been verbally accosted by any of Aidan’s little hussies. This woman had made my skin crawl with her arrogant tone. Perhaps I had felt threatened by her. Maybe I thought that she could perhaps steal away Aidan from me, leaving me to be a single mother. I saw red at the thought of it. I slammed my fist down on the counter with so much force, my arm shuddered at the vibrating pain that shot up to my shoulder. The next moments of my life are a blur.

I had barged into the bathroom, ripped open the shower curtain and launched Aidan’s cell phone at him. He shot evil eyes in my direction and growled obscenities at me. I made sure to explain that Caroline had just called and was more than eager to take my place, to be married to him and all his bullshit. He began making his way from the shower towards me. He grabbed my left arm, and I jerked away from his grasp. I felt pure rage, uninhibited fury. I wanted to attack him, but refrained from such a thing since I would never want to harm my sweet little baby. He was still in the bathroom scrambling for a towel when I bolted out of the front door, keys in hand. I jumped into my car and sped out of the driveway. I was so enraged at Aidan for hurting me so badly and for his piece on the side having the nerve to tell me to ‘bow out gracefully’ that I never saw it coming. I never even had a chance to react. Even if I could have reacted to the collision, I’m not sure my efforts would have yielded a different result.

I was driving through a green light at an intersection near the interstate. and apparently a drunk driver barreled through his red light and hit my compact car broadside. I was told my car had flipped to its side and skid across the intersection. I don’t recall anything but a very loud noise, then darkness. I can vaguely remember a scent. It was a distinct scent. It was a combination of a few elements. I could smell burned rubber, exhaust from a car, smoke that smelled like burned plastic, and the vague scent of blood.

I awoke in the hospital the following day. Everything was blurry, and I was very confused as to what was going on. I saw Aidan sitting beside my bed with his head bowed. I willed my eyelids to open more and blink to clear the fog. I whimpered at the pain that simply blinking caused me. My head felt strangely detached and large, and my brain pulsed loudly in my ears. Aidan must have heard the whimper escape my throat because his head shot up from his hands, and I immediately noticed he looked tired, disheveled.

“Aid—” I couldn’t make my mouth form a word. My throat hurt; it felt like I had swallowed sandpaper.

“Hush! Don’t talk. Try to relax. I’ll get a nurse.”

A nurse? Shit! I really am in a hospital. What the hell happened?

The nurse came into my room, followed by Aidan. He stood in the corner of the room as though he was afraid I would bite him. I couldn’t understand the look of fear on his face. The nurse checked my vital signs, then left to find my doctor. Aidan still had a look of trepidation on his face. His body looked rigid. I had never seen him like that. I began to worry, wondering why he was behaving that way. I wondered what was going through that head of his. What did he know that I didn’t? He made his way across the room back to my bedside, but his stride was hesitant. This definitely was not the supremely confident man I knew him to be.

“What’s wrong?” He barely had a chance to sit before I started in with the inquisition.

“Kathleen, you were in a car accident. Do you remember any of it?”

“Well, I… uh… I’m not sure; my head is so foggy. What happened?” My mind began to reel with blurry flashes that I assumed were memories.

“You just took off, Kathleen! You took off so fast, I didn’t have a chance to talk to you about… her.” I could tell he was on pins and needles as he spoke to me.

“Oh, yes. I DO remember that!” The snap I put into my tone exerted more energy than I currently had to expend, and it made my head throb fiercely.

“Kathleen, I’m so sorry. I screwed up bad. That woman—”

“Caroline, is THAT woman’s name. But surely you already know that, Aidan. You have always been great with names, especially if they are female names. How long have you been screwing her?” My anger momentarily made me forget the pain coursing through my body.

“Yes, Kathleen, I know her damned name. I haven’t… I only… it’s been about two months.” He hung his head in what looked like shame, but I knew better. That wasn’t shame; that was embarrassment for having gotten caught. “Listen, Kathleen, we can discuss that situation later. Right now I want to talk about your accident.” He drew in a huge breath of air and expelled it. “Kathleen, you were hurt pretty bad you know? You have a concussion, three broken ribs, a broken ankle, and… Kathleen… you, the baby…” He hung his head again in what appeared to be genuine sadness, guilt even. My heart stopped at the word.

Baby.

In the fog of waking up and trying to figure out what had happened and of course being so damn consumed with Aidan, as usual, I had forgotten about being seven weeks pregnant. I gasped, and tears welled up when I realized that he was trying to tell me something horrible. I began shaking. “No. No! Aidan! Tell me! Tell me now!”

“Kathleen, you lost the baby. The impact of the accident was really rough; your car is totaled; you could have died Kat, and… the… baby, the baby, it was just… the baby is gone.” He hung his head again. I felt an immediate sense of emptiness and loss. I felt violated beyond words. My eyes welled and spilled over with unstoppable streams of tears. He tried to touch my hand, and I withdrew faster than I should have because my body made its protest known with sharp, piercing spears of pain.

“This is your fault. Get out.” My voice was a monotone whisper.

“Kathleen, please…”

Is this man seriously begging me right now? He robbed me of the most precious thing I have ever been given and he wanted to beg me? For what? More? More of what? I had nothing.

“GET OUT.” My clipped tone must have roused his attention because his brows rose in shock, he had tears in his blue eyes, and his mouth hung open as if words failed him for the first time in his life.

“OUT! NOW!” I bit out my demand with a level of seething fury that I didn’t know even existed. He let out a sigh of resignation.

“I’m so sorry Kathleen. I will be outside if you need me. I won’t leave you here.” His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I did need you, but right now I don’t even know if I want you. Go!” I didn’t even acknowledge my birthday that year. I went home and allowed my physical wounds to heal. I needed Aidan and Cheyenne, almost around the clock, for everything. If not for my physical wounds, I needed someone to help mend the emotional trauma. I healed— physically.

My twenty-fourth birthday was miserable of course. So was my twenty-fifth birthday. Nothing catastrophic happened, but I celebrated with just Cheyenne and two cupcakes. I was lucky to have a best friend who was willing to come to me no matter where I was, just like I would for her. Aidan magically had to be out of town on my birthday every year after I lost the baby. I think the memory of that day was too much for him to have to face so he tucked tail and ran every year instead. At least this year he didn’t have to bother making up some bullshit story about a business trip. I had beaten him to the punch by walking out three weeks before.

Sunday, May 12th, 2013. Day 215 since Aidan.

Cheyenne had been in Dallas less than twenty-four hours, but you would think she had lived there her entire life. She blended with the locals with ease, and seeing her so happy to be in Dallas was a welcome sight for me. I had been stressed to the max with all the new changes that had taken place in my life. I was relieved of some of my stress when Cheyenne arrived and then relieved of even more when she checked out our new home and absolutely loved it. I was worried that she wouldn’t feel at home in the place I had rented for us but of course she loved the place as much as I did. Our new apartment wasn’t anything outrageously fancy, but it was undeniably lovely. Our place was a two bedroom and two bathroom apartment on the 3rd floor which gave us a decent view of the people buzzing around the city streets below us from our balcony. The location was extremely convenient for both of us. The rent on our place was a bit high, simply because we were on Main Street, but being so conveniently placed was well worth it. The location put us in decent proximity to just about everything— including the night life.

We both loved our new home, and it felt great for both of us to be starting over in a new city. I had lined up three interviews for the following week, giving me just enough time to hop on my flight back to El Paso to meet up with Aidan and our lawyers to tie up loose ends. We had decided to sell our home and split the profit, but of course I was required to be in town to sign my name a million different times on a million different legal documents to finalize our divorce and finish up the sale of our home. I was not looking forward to being in the same room with Aidan or the same county for that matter, but I really didn’t have much choice. Seeing him and taking the final steps to sever my life from his was necessary. I was scheduled to be in town to finalize my divorce for three days which gave me plenty of time to accomplish everything, including stopping by the tattoo parlor to pick up my sketches. I had called Fred weeks before and asked him to help me out with a tattoo I was planning. He wouldn’t be the one doing the work, but as my friend he was more than happy to draw up what I asked for. I would have to locate an excellent artist once I was back in Dallas to whom to take my sketche. This particular tattoo was very important to me, and I would not settle for just any artist.

My flight out was that night, Sunday, May 12th, day 215 since Aidan. I felt it was shit timing having to leave Cheyenne alone when she had only just arrived, but there was no avoiding it. I would be returning Wednesday to prepare for the interviews I had scheduled. I had applied for a paralegal position at three different law firms here in Dallas, and I was very excited to start work again. I needed the structure and routine that holding a job required. I had been managing my emotions quite well over the past seven months, but a new job would ensure that I was busy week to week. As a paralegal I was always on the run at work. I was great at my chosen career and aimed to impress my employer. In the past my employers didn’t relish handing out loads of ‘atta girls’ or pats on the back for a job well done, but I worked hard and efficiently nonetheless. I had yet to do any research whatsoever on the three firms to which I had sent my resume. I would just have to scramble to get it all done in time. My first and second interviews were both on the following Monday.

I set out towards the airport. While I was on the road, my cell phone chimed alerting me to an incoming text message. I stopped to fill my car with gas and opened the text while I refueled.
‘Hey babygirl! Need yall’s address, so I can send Chey’s birthday flowers. It’s a surprise; don’t tell her.
’ The text was from Emma Rae Walker, Cheyenne’s mom, who was also known as Mama Rae to just about everyone who was young enough to have been her kid. After reading the text, I kicked myself for forgetting about Cheyenne’s birthday only a few days away. I couldn’t believe I could forget her twenty-eighth birthday.

Shit!! I’m such a jerk! Crap, what am I going to get her?

I texted Mama Rae back and glanced at the clock on the dash. I realized I had a little time to spare before I had to be at the airport, so I pulled into a book store knowing just the thing she would love. I was a woman on a mission. The book store was small and quaint which made me worry that they might not have what I was looking for. I hopped out of my Honda after I whipped into a parking space haphazardly. I liked the store. The place was called Book Ends, and it smelled like new books, cookies, and coffee, the last two I discovered were complimentary refreshments for patrons.

How nice.

I scanned the small store for the section I needed and found it. The cookbook section was small, but promising nonetheless. I knew Cheyenne would love to have
Mastering the Art of French Cooking, 50th Anniversary Edition
by Julia Child. I would not have time to order the book online, nor would I even if I did have the time because Cheyenne might be tempted to open any packages sent to our apartment. This way I would have her gift with me, ensuring that she would not ruin the surprise. I quickly scanned the section for the book and spotted it. I nearly jumped for joy with the prospect of diverting a birthday disaster by forgetting to get my very best friend a great gift. If I had screwed up and not gotten her a gift, she would forgive me, of course, but I wouldn’t forgive myself. I darted towards the book and noted that it was the only one left.

I’m a lucky lady today!

I snatched the book off the shelf and like the graceful swan that I am, I juggled it around like a moron before it fell to the floor with a thud.

Ugh! Geez butter fingers
!

I went to stoop down to pick up my prize when I noticed a large, masculine, hand complete with long, graceful-looking fingers swiftly snatch it off of the floor.