Love Series (Complete Series)

by Natasha Madison

  His arms around me comfort me till I’m spent, and my eyes are sore and heavy. “Good thing I’m coming. Who else would drive?” Crystal says as she gets on her tippy toes and kisses Blake’s cheek. “I’ll call you when we get there,” she says as she walks to the driver’s side door and gets in, leaving me standing with Blake.

  “How did you do it?” I ask him, thinking of his first true love, Frankie. Francesca came into his life when he was fifteen. In high school, both of them joined the debate team. It was a friendship that blossomed into love until her cancer claimed her five years later, leaving Blake broken. He has not dated since that day. It’s as if he’s stuck in that place.

  “Don’t do what I did. Don’t shut yourself off from the world. Live,” he says. “Promise me you’ll live.” I smile as I place my hands over his two hands on my cheeks. “You have to listen to me. I’m older,” he says, causing me to laugh out loud.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say to him as his hands leave my face, and I nod. “Promise me the same.” He nods at me, putting his hands in his back pockets as his green eyes still stay shaded and protected.

  “Get out of here,” he says as he walks back to his truck. “See you next month for sure.” I nod at him, climbing in the passenger side.

  Crystal starts the car and slides on her sunglasses. “Isn’t this just like Thelma and Louise?” she asks, and I laugh to myself.

  “Can we do it without the whole driving off the cliff or shooting Brad Pitt?” I ask her as she pulls away from the curb.

  “I say we still shoot Brad Pitt but don’t die either. I mean, imagine if one of us survived without the other.” She shakes her head as I lean my head on the cold window. Basking in the sun, I see a bird soaring in a circle in the sky. “I’d come back and haunt you. Just saying.” I laugh, taking my eyes off the bird to look at her. When I turn back to see where the bird went, it’s gone.

  I watch the trees as we make it on the highway on our way out of town, the sign telling us they hope to see us again. “I start work next Monday,” I tell her as I take my phone out and see that my emails have gotten over ten thousand. Before all this happened, I was a highly sought-after web designer. You had a business that needed a website, you contacted me.

  “So in four days,” she says. “That’s perfect. I start Monday also,” she informs me. “I spoke with them on the phone, and their practice is family run. A father and son. I spoke with the father, but I haven’t met the son yet. From what I gathered on line, they are the best in the region. It should be fun.”

  After four hours of driving, we stop to get gas and use the bathroom. I grab some food for us, and we get back on the road for the rest of the journey. Having both of the windows down allows the country air to settle in with us. My hand reaches outside, and I let the wind blow it back before pushing my hand through it. The mountains in the distance get closer as we make our way there and finally turn off the interstate at our exit. With trees lining the street on both sides, we follow the directions, turning once to go down Main Street. I laugh; it seems every city or town has a Main Street.

  Passing over a little bridge, we watch the creek on both sides, the water flowing down. Once we get off the bridge, I see every single shop has the American flag hanging outside. As we slowly roll down the street, I look at my side of the street and the sidewalk consisting of tiny red blocks. The D’Amore pizza place has a red and white sign with green around it. I look inside and see someone tossing a pizza in the air behind the counter in the middle.

  Right next door to the pizza place is Sweet Pixie Cuts. I try to look inside, but all I see is white. A small cast-iron table sits in front with two pink chairs.

  Next is Grandma Susie’s Kitchen, and looking inside, all I see is red and white. A couple of people are sitting on the stools right at the front. A waitress carrying food with both hands. A billboard in front displays today’s specials written in pink chalk.

  A big green awning with white writing hangs in front of the next shop. Tina’s Treasure Thrift Shop has racks of clothing lining the front two windows. A big cardboard BOGO sign in black hangs in the window. People walk down the street and wave to everyone. “I think everyone knows everyone,” I comment. Taking off my sunglasses, I realize more shops are across the street. “We should take a walk tomorrow night,” I say as Crystal turns left in the front of the pharmacy, which just has the mortar and pestle on it. We pass the courthouse, or at least that’s what I think it is because courthouse is written in the middle of it. I see a tavern on Crystal’s side but don’t catch the name as she turns left again to head into what looks like a development of new houses.

  We continue down and pass a cul-de-sac with two houses on the street. I see a little girl riding her pink bike with her father chasing after her as she laughs and tries to get away. We turn down a gravel road, and I take in the lush trees on both sides as we get to the house. The white house looks deserted and nothing like the pictures.

  “What the fuck?” I say as Crystal puts the car in park right in front of the house. I look up and see that one of the black shutters is falling loose from the window on the second floor. I open my door and climb out of the car, meeting Crystal in the front to take in our new home.

  “That picture lied,” she says as she grabs her phone out of her pocket and calls Nanny. “I know you’re not answering because you know why I’m calling,” she says into the phone and then hangs up, turning to me. “Maybe it’s just the outside.” She digs through my purse for the key. “Let’s go inside and see how bad it is.” We walk up the front steps and find one whole step missing.

  I shake my head as we make it to the door, turning and seeing that swing that called my name. The chains that hold the swing are rusted and covered in spider webs. The wicker seat is so dirty, and the pink rug that was under it is blown half over. “Okay, so we need to do a couple of projects,” I say as she puts the key in the door and turns the lock. “Well, at least we aren’t locked out,” I say as she pushes open the door and steps inside.

  The huge living room is empty. The fireplace has a board nailed over it with a single white chair in the middle of the room facing it. The gray floor has seen better days. I turn the lights on, but they just flicker. We walk in to see the kitchen to our left with a wooden island in the middle and all the cabinets white and lifeless. The brown wooden butcher block counters provide the only color in the room. The white porcelain farmhouse sink faces the window looking out to the front. The windows have no shades. The white gas stove with black burners has seen better days as has the fridge. Crystal walks to it and opens it and groans at the smell. “We need to buy a new fridge and stove,” she says as I look around, thinking with the right couch and table, this place can be perfect.

  I follow her down a short hallway where we find a simple bathroom on our left. The black and white flower tiles on the floor dress it up a bit, and a see-through curtain covers the window. I open the door on the right and find a huge master bedroom. Three windows face the water in the distance. Noticing again the white walls, I walk in and open the door to the bathroom. “Why is everything so white?” I say as the floor creaks under my feet. The ceiling in the bedroom was a dark wood, but someone painted over it. As is evident from the brown fan that sits dormant with spider webs hanging from it. Heading out the door in the corner of the room, I take in the covered porch and the other swing that drew me to this house, but I don’t look at it. Instead, I listen to the sound of the rumble of the ocean and the waves crashing on the shore. Looking out, all I see is the darkness of the night. “This is so cool,” I say as I glance at the swing. This one has some padding on it and gold chains holding it up.

  “Good. I’m not taking this room,” Crystal says as she walks back inside the house and tries to find light switches that work. I follow her as she heads to the living room and walks up the stairs, where we find two more bedrooms with a huge bathroom with a sunken tube. After we walk to the back of the house, she picks her room, and I decide to
make the third bedroom my office. “Fuck. Where the hell are we going to sleep tonight?” she asks as we walk back downstairs, and I turn in a circle.

  “We are going to sleep here,” I tell her as her phone rings. She answers right away.

  “Nan, you have so much explaining to do,” she starts off, and I turn, looking back at the fireplace, and sit in the chair, almost falling since one of the legs is broken. “It’s empty,” she says. “Like so empty I don’t even think racoons would live here.” She continues as she walks toward the back of the house. “Yeah, yeah. Well, you'd better call your friend and tell her that we need the super of someone to come and clean this shit up.” She presses the button to end the call. “I don’t think there is a super.” She looks at me. “We need to hit up a Walmart or a Target,” she says as she brings up her maps. “What the fuck? The closest Walmart is an hour and four minutes away.”

  I nod my head, going outside and grabbing our bags to carry inside. “An adventure,” I tell her as she glares at me. “Come on, we can stock up on all the stuff at Walmart, and tomorrow we can go shopping for a couch and stuff.” I smile at her, and she follows me outside. We get back in the car, and she drives us one hour and four minutes away to the closest Walmart. I look out the window, never once shedding a tear.

  Chapter Six

  Hailey

  My eyes blink open as the sun hits my face. I try to stretch my body, but it’s stiff, and my joints groan out in defiance when I roll over and hit the floor. That is what we get when you choose a blow-up mattress that sits on the floor. After huffing and puffing about our ‘dire’ situation, Crystal and I hit up Walmart. Let me just say we are so much more prepared now than we were last night when we arrived.

  We had three carts overflowing with everything from cleaning supplies, to towels, to bed sheets, to a coffee machine, toaster, food, and our blow-up mattress. But we didn’t stop there. Nope, not us and our adventure.

  Before we even made it into Walmart, we shopped at Country Sam’s Shop For Less Furniture and Supplies next door. Well, I have to say I was like a kid in a candy store. While Crystal made sure she had a king-size bed and matching armoire, I went on the hunt for our couch. And what a couch it was. We decided on two couches with big fluffy pillows; to me, it felt like sitting on a cloud. I was so excited that I bought even more throw pillows while Crystal sat on the couch the whole time. We added a white table with six chairs, which was a bit big since we didn’t know anyone here, but I know my family will visit. I picked the most feminine bed in the store. Fuck, if they’d had a pink one, I would have chosen that one. But I went with a white one instead. I couldn’t wait for them to deliver it Saturday.

  I go to the bathroom and wash my face, then come out to the kitchen and start the coffee. I see that it is just after seven a.m. I slept a whole three hours. Once the coffee is made, I grab one of the throw blankets we bought and make my way outside.

  When we arrived yesterday, I saw stairs off to the right that I knew led down to the ocean. Grabbing my flip-flops, I make my way outside, down my backyard steps, and walk over the short grass to the wooden stairs.

  I stand on the top step and breathe in the salty air. Watching the water crash down on the shore as my hair flies in my face from one side, I smile at the calmness and peace that I feel at that moment.

  Coming out in a tank top and cotton pants wasn’t my smartest move, so I wrap the blanket around my shoulders as I walk down the steps. My feet sink in the sand as soon as I step off the last step onto the sand. As I walk down the grass-lined path, I come to a wooden fence but half has fallen down. I get closer to the water, the sound louder as more and more waves crash.

  I sit down, glad I brought the big blanket, and watch the waves come at me, careful to sit far enough back so I remain dry. The coffee in my hand gets cold faster than I can drink it. It’s almost like drinking iced coffee by the time I place the empty cup beside me. My thoughts take over, and I make mental lists of everything that needs to be done. I’m watching the waves so intently I don’t even see the little girl running along the water until I hear her giggles when the water touches her rubber boots.

  Watching the carefree little girl makes me smile. I look back and see a golden lab run in the water and then back toward her. She stops running and puts her hand on the dog’s back. “Mila.” I hear a man’s voice yell out. “Mila. You’re too far,” he says again as the dog sits by her side. She waits for the man to come closer. He is wearing pants and a sweater with a baseball cap on, covering his eyes.

  When he gets closer, she turns and runs ahead, but when her head turns, she sees me. Her dog jumps in front of her, trying to catch her attention, but she runs over straight to me. “Are you lost?” she asks as her dog barks at me, and my head snaps back.

  I don’t have time to answer because her father comes running and grabs the dog by the collar. “Sorry,” he says. “Flounder, stay.” He orders the dog to sit next to him while he pants, and his tail moves on the sand.

  “I’m sorry, he really is a good dog,” he says as he pets his head and then squats down in front of his girl. “Mila, what did I tell you about talking to strange people?”

  The little girl’s little curls fly into her face, a strand going into her mouth, and as she reaches up to move it away, her raincoat falls off one shoulder. “Poppa, she lost.” She points back at me as the father now looks up at me, and for the first time, I see his face. His blue eyes cloudy and almost a dark blue, just like the ocean I’m looking at. His lips full and as his cheeks are covered with stubble.

  “I’m not lost,” I tell him and the little girl. “I just moved into that house,” I say as I point back to the white house.

  The minute I mention the house, his demeanor changes, and his back goes straight. He stands up, grabbing his little girl’s hand. “She isn’t lost,” he says as he pulls her away from me with the dog following them. I sit there in shock at what just happened. The man bends down and picks up the little girl, and she hugs his neck with one hand and waves bye to me with a little smile. My hand comes out of the blanket and my fingers bend as I wave back to her. I watch them walk back down the beach, the dog running in and out of the water, until they are no more than a speck in the distance.

  I sit out there for a while, watching the water as it slowly inches closer and closer when I hear footsteps behind me. “Dude, my whole body is stiffer than a ninety-year-old on Viagra,” Crystal says as she sits next to me, and the visual causes me to snort. “So Ms. This Adventure is so Cool, Delores called, and she is coming over in about thirty minutes to see us. Apparently, Nanny filled her in.” I don’t answer her. Instead, she stops talking as she looks at the ocean, and we get lost in our thoughts until she gets up and holds out her hand to me. “Let’s go.” I grab her hand to help me up, and we walk back inside.

  The toast pops up as soon as we hear a knock on the door. I look at Crystal, who gets up and walks over to the door to open it. “Hi,” she says to an older lady with gray hair that looks almost silver. “Please come in.” She moves away from the door as I lean against the now clean counter, bringing my coffee cup to my lips.

  “Oh, dear.” The woman looks around as she takes in the room. “I had no idea,” she says as she looks at me. “You must be Hailey.” She comes into the room and spots the fridge. “What in the heavens?”

  “I take it you didn’t know how bad the condition was?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.

  “This house belonged to my grandson and his then wife. Before she took off, that is,” she says. I just nod at her and sip my coffee.

  “Would you like a coffee?” I offer her, and she smiles at me. “I mean, you have to stand and drink it.” I smile back at her, silently high fiving my humor.

  “I would love one,” she says, “Can I look around?”

  “Please feel free,” I tell her as Crystal starts making her a coffee. “The couches and beds are due to be delivered on Saturday,” I tell her, and she looks at me with her
eyebrows pinched together.

  “We don’t get anything delivered on the weekends. Besides, this house needs a new paint job before anything comes in.”

  “Um, well, I start work on Monday, and there is no way I can continue sleeping on a blow-up mattress. So they’d better be here on Saturday with my bed or else.” I look at Crystal, waiting for her to finish her sentence, but she doesn’t, and then Delores walks out of the room.

  “Or else what?” I ask her as she points at me.

  “Don’t fucking start. I will, I don’t know, poison their fucking cattle. Or”—she throws up her hands—“tip over a cow. Don’t fuck with me and my sleep.”

  I fold my lips trying not to laugh as she glares at me and Delores comes back downstairs.

  “Okay, girls, pack up your stuff. You will stay with me until your furniture is delivered.” She shakes her head. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to sleep here last night. This is the only property Jensen blocks off from being rented, but I had no idea,” she trails off, “that it was this fucking disgusting.” She looks at us. “Excuse my language.”

  Crystal comes to stand next to me and leans on the same counter as Delores takes a pad out of her purse and writes her address on it. “This is my address. It’s on the other side of the development.” She writes something else. “This is the code for the gate. Luckily, I have no cattle for you to tip over or poison.” She winks at Crystal. “Now, this is the address,” she says as she tears another paper off, “to the construction house. I want a list of everything that has to be done. Right down to all the sockets. I will make sure everything is finished this weekend.” She hands me the address. “Now, I hear you had a shitty month.” She grabs her cup of coffee.

  “A shitty month is a good word for it,” I tell her as I put my cup down. “I mean, I’ve never found out that my husband was already married with a family before, so my vocabulary might not be up to par.” I laugh. “But shitty about sums it up.”