The Love Series Complete Box Set (38 page)

He’s left me.

I told him to leave and he listened and now I’ve lost him. I try to hold back my tears, but there’s no point really.

Cammie, Mel and Lia huddle around me and try to calm me down. After a few minutes, I will myself to stop my hysterics. No one knows what to say. Hell, I don’t know what to say. So rather than say anything, they all do what best friends are supposed to do. They help me pack up my room, buy me pizza, rent a chick flick and spend the rest of the afternoon into the early evening helping me forget my problems.

I’m glad that I have to make the drive home alone. Even though it’s a pain in the ass to drive with one hand and reach across my body to shift the car into gear, I need some time to just think things over. When I woke up this morning, I had so much strength and resolve where Reid was concerned. I wanted him back in my life. I made a mistake and I was so hopeful that he would forgive me for it. But then, to find out that he just up and left without telling me anything. My world is suddenly closing in around me.

Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore. Maybe the baby is too much for him to commit to. He told me so many times that he didn’t want to open the wounds of his past and I pushed him to do so and now he’s gone. And I’m alone.

Mel and I arrive home right around the same time. It’s fairly early in the evening and it looks as if Momma must have just gotten home from work. We hear her in the kitchen and smell the beginnings of dinner. “Hey, girls. Come in the kitchen. I’ve got some good news.” Momma’s cheery voice helps to lift my spirits a little.

She’s standing at the counter chopping some vegetables and sautéing chicken. I know I just ate a few hours ago, but I’m starving. Maybe it’s just that I need the comfort of a home-cooked meal. My soul needs soothing right now and a meal with my family is just what I need.

I busy myself with setting the table as Mel begins stirring up a pitcher of iced tea. “So what’s the good news, Mom? Finally got yourself a hot date?” Melanie winks at Momma as she reaches into the cabinet to get some glasses. She has been teasing Momma about getting out in the dating scene again for years. It hasn’t been effective.

Momma tosses the dish towel that she had draped over her shoulder at Melanie. “No silly.” She gives Mel “the look”—you know the one that every mom has when they want to end a conversation without having to say they want to end it. Yes,
that
look.

When she’s done glaring at Mel, Momma looks over at me. “Actually, it’s great news for you.” Momma pulls out a chair and indicates that we should sit down with her.

I look at her expectantly. Great news would be that she’s been hiding Reid in her closet and that she’s worked out a way for him and me to get back together. Somehow, I don’t think that’s what’s up her sleeve though.

She’s practically bouncing with delight, so it must be good. Barely able to contain her excitement any more, she finally says, “I got you a job!”

The painful dejection I was feeling from earlier evaporates the instant those words leave her mouth. “Oh my God, Momma that’s great news. Where? When do I start?” This is huge. I know I’m qualified for nothing, so I was ready to start scouring the want ads for waitress jobs. If I could clap my hands together, I would. Damn cast. I can’t wait for this thing to come off.

“I was talking with Linda today at work and when I told her that you were looking for a job, she said her sister is an office manager at a dentist’s office. Their receptionist just quit and they’re desperate to find someone. She called her sister and said that you were the perfect candidate. You’ve got an interview tomorrow at 11 a.m., but Linda assured me that it’s just a formality.” She’s beaming with pride—at me, at herself, at the idea that maybe this craziness will eventually settle down.

I wrap my arms around her and squeeze as tight as I can. She’s said it more times than I can remember over the years, but in this moment, I truly feel like I’m home, like I have a family. I feel complete and loved and hopeful.

I take a step out of our embrace and look into her shining blue eyes. “Thank you so much, Momma. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted.” Momma smiles warmly at me and goes back to the stove to stir something before it begins burning.

Dinner passes quickly and we chat endlessly. It feels like we’re finally moving past the accident and all of its aftermath. I’ve been so lost in my own heartache that I didn’t even realize that Mel was dealing with her own. Bryan had to fly home while I was in the hospital. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to him, but she’s hoping that she might be able to fly out to see him around the New Year. There was definitely some tension around the conversation, but Mel was quick to gloss over all of the details, so I got the distinct feeling that she just didn’t want to talk about it.

Later that night, after cleaning up and watching some TV, I shower and lay in my bed thinking about how hopeful I am. I’ve worked out so many of my problems, but I’d be lying to myself if I said I am truly happy. I miss Reid. I miss him so much that my heart actually feels empty in his absence.

I long to feel his arms wrap around me and pull me close to his chest, to hear his tenderly whispered words in my ear as I drift to sleep, to feel his warm and solid body up against mine.

I fall asleep remembering the last time we made love and dream of the possibility of having him in my arms again someday soon.

Chapter 5

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

I’m crammed in the corner of a local—and by local I mean the SUNY New Paltz campus—Starbucks, nervously tapping my fingers on the table and shaking my leg up and down. The whole room is vibrating with my anxiety. I slide the cardboard cup holder up and down on my coffee and twist it around the paper cup. I’m not really paying attention to what I’m doing. My eyes are glued to the door waiting for her to enter.

Katelyn and I spoke on the phone yesterday when I arrived in town. She gave me a brief description of what she looks like so I’ll know it’s her when she walks in. We didn’t get into all of the details about how she knows my mom and me; that was too deep for a quick phone call, so I’m extremely anxious to hear what she has to say.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. She was supposed to be here five minutes ago. What if she’s not coming? There aren’t any texts or missed calls and lord knows she has my number. As I’m lost in my anxiety, I faintly hear the bell above the door clang and I suddenly feel a gust of cold air burst through the small café.

It’s her. She’s just like she described herself- average height and petite frame, medium length straight blond hair, brown eyes. She’s dressed like a typical college student in jeans and a hoodie with the college logo emblazoned across the front. She looks vaguely familiar, but it could just be that she looks like the stereotypical girl next door.

She scans the room and her eyes land on me. That’s odd. I didn’t tell her what I look like. I guess seeing as she knows my mom and already has my phone number, she didn’t need a description of me. Walking cautiously towards me, she pulls off her mittens and unwinds her scarf from around her neck. She’s less than a few feet from my table and I still don’t know what to say. I want to be angry, but I’m tired of that. My sole desire is to get to the bottom of all of this so that I can go home to and fight to get Maddy back.

She stretches out her small, delicate hand to shake mine. “Hi. You must be Reid. I’m Katelyn Donovan.” Considering how I ignored her calls for weeks and chewed her out when I finally did speak to her, it’s not surprising that her voice is small and nervous.

The sound of my chair screeching across the tile floor as I stand to greet her mirrors the tension that’s been building since she started walking towards me. I extend my hand to hers and shake it. She’s cold. Her hands are like ice.

As much as I want to hate her, my manners take over. “Hi, Katelyn. It’s . . . uh . . . it’s good to meet you, I guess.” Well, it’s better than, “who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?” I somehow don’t think that is appropriate, nor is it going to get me the information that I need.

She takes her seat and places her jacket on the back of her chair. I return to my seat and we sit in silence for a few uncomfortable moments. I gulp back the rest of my coffee and wonder if I should do the nice thing and offer to get her something. Shaking her hand did feel like holding an ice cube.

Standing again, to make my way over to the counter, I ask, “I’m going to grab another coffee. Can I get you anything?” If she can tell that I’m just trying to avoid the conversation, she’s hiding it well. But the small smile that curls the corners of her lips tells me that she’s fully aware of my plan. It also helps to put me at ease a little.

Sweeping her bangs to the side, she angles her head towards the specials board. “Sure, I’ll have a grande, soy vanilla latte, skinny with a shot of caramel syrup.”

“Um, okay, but can you write that down.” Seriously? All of those words for one drink? It sounds like she just ordered a meal.

She chuckles at me and rolls her eyes. “I’m kidding. I’ll have a regular coffee; milk and sugar is just fine.”

I want to laugh. I should laugh, but instead I just walk away.

I walk over to order our drinks and my gaze drifts back to her sitting at the table. She’s got her phone in her hands and the furious pace at which her thumbs are moving suggests that she must be texting someone. I didn’t realize that a person’s thumbs could even move that quickly!

She puts her phone away as I sit back down. I slide her coffee across to her and the tension returns.

“So,” I say.

“So,” she responds.

At this pace, we’ll be sitting here until tomorrow. I take a deep breath and dive right in.

“I don’t want to be rude, well actually I do, but I won’t. You’re the one who’s been calling me, who’s got something to say to me, so if you don’t start talking, then there’s really no point in me being here.” I take a sip of my still too hot coffee and lean back in my chair. Folding my arms across my chest, I wait for her to respond.

It takes a few seconds, but finally she starts talking. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I am the one who wanted to talk and here I am all clammed up. I actually sat in the parking lot for about fifteen minutes before I came in. I just don’t know where to start.” She rubs her hands over her thighs in a nervous gesture.

She sips her coffee and leans forward on her elbows. “Can I ask you something first?” I arch an eyebrow at her. She stalks me for months—okay, stalks might be a bit strong, but I’m sticking with it—causes all sorts of a fall out with Maddy—fine, it’s not entirely her fault, but, like a tantrum ridden two year old, I’m sticking to that one too—and now she wants me to answer her questions.

She looks at me pleadingly and says, “It’ll help me figure out where to start.” She’s nervously fidgeting with the string on her hoodie, twisting it around her finger until it turns white under the pressure. I decide to cut her some slack. Besides, my interested is piqued now. What does she mean “where to start?” What the hell does she know?

I don’t say anything. I just look at her and nod, indicating that she can continue.

Her eyes meet mine and I see a deep swirl of emotions—sadness, concern, unease. Her voice cracks, but she clears her throat and finally asks her question. “When is the last time you spoke with your mom?”

I work hard to suppress the rage I feel at her question. For all intents and purposes, this girl sitting across from me is a perfect stranger and she wants to delve into my dark past. Fuck no!

She must see my jaw clench and my neck bulge at swallowing back my anger. Steeling herself against my reaction, her spine stiffens and she sits up straight in her chair.

“It’s been four years since I left.” I spit my words venomously at her.

I can see her working out what to say now that she knows how long it’s been. What the hell could she have to tell me? It’s taking her way too long and my frustration is definitely getting the best of me. I lean forward across the small table and angrily whisper through a clenched jaw, “Tell me what the fuck is going on, Katelyn, or else I’m going to walk out of here and never talk to you again. She can die and you can go on your merry way knowing that you had me here and you blew it.” I guess I couldn’t keep my inner asshole buried for too long.