Love Series (Complete Series)

by Natasha Madison

  “No, Mom didn’t cook that much.” I just nod my head, knowing full fucking well it’s a lie; my mother-in-law cooks for an army. “She cooked less ’cause Dad is going away for business.”

  “That’s okay,” I tell him, and he stands there awkwardly. I don’t say anything else. Instead, I turn to watch the movie.

  “I’m going to head out,” he says, and I turn, smiling at him.

  “Have a great week,” I tell him as he comes to kiss the kids goodbye.

  I wait for the door to close, then turn to Lizzie. “What do you feel like for dinner?” I ask her as she just looks at me.

  “We can have pancakes”—she smiles—“with chocolate chips.”

  We make pancakes together, side by side, as we dance to songs that Lizzie chooses, and Daisy runs around, dancing on one foot. I put the kids to bed, kissing them and telling them I love them.

  I take a shower, looking at my body in the mirror. I’ve lost a good fifteen pounds; my hipbones are sticking out, and I hate it. I grab my pjs, putting them on, and then going around the house, making sure everything is locked up.

  I get into bed and turn on the television, flipping through the channels. Looking down at my phone next to me, I pick it up and call him.

  He answers after two rings; groggy, his voice is rough. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were sleeping. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Hey, you,” he says, and I hear the rustling of his covers in the background. “I got off shift today, and I usually nap, but I guess I was more tired than I thought. How was your day?”

  “Eventful,” I say softly, turning on my side. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call you back?”

  “Nope,” he says. I don’t know why, but I picture him in bed, his black hair sticking up everywhere. “How was it eventful?”

  “Lizzie knows about Hailey,” I say softly, and that wakes him up.

  “What?” he asks with a madness to his voice. “How?”

  “She heard Ethan and Elliot talking in the garage, and well, she had a boatload of questions.”

  “I bet she did. I’m old enough to understand, and I have a shitload of questions.”

  “I had to sit there, holding her and telling her that he loved her more than life while the whole time I cursed him and hoped he was rotting in hell.”

  “I don’t think you are the only one wishing that,” he says, laughing.

  “My in-laws are boycotting me,” I say, and I don’t know why I tell him. “We got into a fight the other night, and well, let’s just say I’m no longer feeling the love,” I say as my thumb rubs the underneath of my eye.

  “What happened?” he asks, and I contemplate telling him the truth.

  “I was pissed that they were going after Hailey’s bank account, and I voiced my opinion. Well, let’s just say if I was a proper wife, he wouldn’t have looked elsewhere.” Just saying it out loud makes me see how stupid it sounds.

  “Who fucking said that?” His voice is loud and almost screaming. “I swear to God.”

  I laugh at him. “It doesn’t matter. I know it’s a crock of shit. What hurt was that no one stuck up for me. No one came to my side; no one told me that it was bullshit. No one took my side; no one held my hand and said he’s crazy.” My voice goes soft.

  “I’m sorry. Where was Elliot or Ethan?” he asks.

  “Sitting at the table,” I tell him. “Was he involved with your family?”

  “Yes,” he says, and I know it hurts him too now. “My grandmother loved him, and my mother considered him another son. When he was in town, we all knew because my mother would have a dinner.”

  “Did he hold her hand?” I think back to when he stopped holding my hand; I think back to when it started to change.

  “Every single chance he got.”

  “Maybe he did love her more than me,” I say, thinking about it. “Maybe she was it for him.”

  “He was a coward. No man would do that to someone they love.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” I ask him, waiting for him to answer.

  “Yes, I have,” he says softly, “and I’ll love her till my last dying breath.”

  “So why don’t you marry her?” I ask him.

  “Because she died and left me when we were twenty.”

  I sit up as his words hit me. “Oh my God, Blake, I’m so, so, so sorry. That was insensitive of me,” I tell him.

  “You didn’t know, so you had no reason, but if she was still here, I like to think we would have been married and had at least a couple of kids by now. Frankie always wanted a big family,” he says, and I can sense a smile fill his face.

  “I’m sure she would,” I say, yawning. “I’m going to get going. I’m sorry I woke you,” I tell him. “Sweet dreams, Blake,” I say, disconnecting. Lost in my own thoughts, I’m jealous of the love he had for her. Jealous that no one ever loved me so fiercely. Not once.

  Blake

  Blake

  “Sweet dreams, Blake,” she says softly and then disconnects. I lie here, waiting for I have no idea what. For her to call me back, for her to text me. I get nothing.

  Getting up, I make my way to the kitchen, grabbing some water and then heading back to bed. I fall fast asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. My dreams don’t bother me tonight, and I wake up right when the sun rises. I grab my bag and make my way to the gym. I do mostly cardio since we have weights at the fire station. When I finally walk out of the gym, it’s almost nine o’clock, so I send Samantha a text.

  Hope you are having a better day.

  When she told me about her in-laws last night, I wanted to get in my car and drive over there and beat the shit out of every single one of them. Who doesn’t hold their family up? Who doesn’t fucking support and care for the mother of your grandchildren?

  A text message comes in, and my phone pings

  Fingers crossed, hoping that you have the best day!

  I smile and then pull up in front of Hailey’s house. Walking in, I see Hailey sitting in the middle of shattered glass with roses all over the floor. The card right in front of my foot shows me that they are from Eric.

  I grab the broom, sweeping up the majority of the mess while I watch my sister in the chair, crying. I wonder what would happen if this was Samantha. I wonder who would hold her, who would be there for her. The answer is no one. How sad is that?

  So lost in my own thoughts, I don’t hear the door open nor do I see Nanny come in and take a look around. She says nothing when she sees the garbage with the roses in it. Instead, she shows Hailey a picture of a house on the beach. She goes on and on about her friend Delores who has a house for rent, and how this is what Hailey needs.

  “She just can’t leave,” I say as Nanny looks over at me.

  “And why not?” I try to answer, but Nanny doesn’t even give me a chance to. “She has nothing here. Nothing. Yes, she has her family, but she needs to find herself. Staying here in this museum she calls a home isn’t helping anyone. Besides, she works from home. All she needs is her computer, and she is good to go.”

  “Yes.” The sound comes out in a soft whisper. “Yes.” Hailey looks up as Nanny smiles, and I scratch my head. How in the hell is her moving away from her family a good thing? I try to make eye contact with Hailey, but she is too fixated on the picture of that house.

  “I want to have a yard sale.” Hailey looks at me. “I want to sell everything. I want nothing.” I look around her house, seeing all the touches of Eric, and know this purge will be painful for her, but hopefully, it helps her heal.

  “I’ll make the posters today.” Nanny gets up and walks to the door. “I guess this is like that song ‘Cleaning out the Closet.’ Remember, Blake? You used to sing it each day in the mirror, wearing your white t-shirt and your jeans hanging low under your ass.” She laughs. “Until I told you that inmates wear their pants like that to have …” She cups her mouth with her hands and whispers, “Butt sex.”

  Hailey snorts as I thr
ow my head back. “Oh, good God,” I groan as Nanny walks out of the door. I look at my sister. “You sure you want to go there all by yourself?”

  She doesn’t get a chance to answer because Crystal walks in. “Hey, you guys,” she says, tossing her purse on the couch and coming in to start the coffee. “Whatcha looking at?” she asks as she picks up a picture of the house. “This is so pretty.”

  I fill her in. “That is where Hailey is going to, as Nanny says, ‘find herself.’” I use my fingers to make air quotes.

  Crystal and I look at each other while I open the fridge and take out the ingredients to make breakfast. Hailey starts making a list of what needs to be done. I don’t say much except when she asks for a real estate agent, I pick up the phone and call Sophie.

  Sophie and I went to school together, and she promised to come by this afternoon to see her.

  I walk out of the house and climb into my truck. The phone rings, and I don’t know why, but my heart speeds up just a bit when I see her name.

  “Did he cook dinner?” she asks when I answer. Her voice is different, not sad but as if she is asking whether you want fries or a salad.

  “Umm, it would depend, but usually yes.”

  “Asshole,” she says, and I laugh. “He never fucking cooked.”

  “Can I ask what brought this on?” I pull into my driveway.

  “I hate deciding what to cook for dinner. It just feels like it’s always the same thing.”

  “Tacos,” I tell her, and she gasps.

  “On a Monday?” She laughs. “Living on the edge.”

  “That’s me, the badass.” I laugh, getting out of the truck.

  “Were you in the car?” she asks as I hear pots banging in the background.

  “Yeah, I just got home. Hailey is leaving,” I say, sitting on the couch now while I talk to her.

  “What?” she asks softly. “Why?”

  “According to Nanny, she needs to find herself and doing it moping in the house and getting drunk isn’t it.”

  “She gets drunk?” she asks softly, and I hear sniffling. “Is she okay?”

  “No,” I answer honestly. “Not even close, but I’m really hoping that she will be.”

  “Where is she going?” she asks me, her voice picking up just a bit.

  “Some house on the beach. We are selling everything,” I tell her. “Cleaning out the closet.”

  “I wish I could do that,” she says. “I have all his clothes still hanging in the closet, and I don’t even bother opening it anymore.”

  “When it’s time, you will,” I tell her.

  “Did you live with Frankie before she died?” she asks me.

  “No, we were planning to, but she fell sick right before we could,” I say softly, remembering. “Our goal was to move out the minute we both could afford the down payment. I had just joined the academy, and she was starting her nursing program.”

  “How long were you two together?” she asks with a laugh.

  “Five years,” I say. “We met our first day of high school.”

  “First love,” she says, and I quickly correct her. “Only love.”

  “I have to go get the kids,” she says, and we both say bye and disconnect.

  I get up, making my way to the kitchen, not hungry anymore. I lie on the couch and flip on the television. Finally deciding on a movie, I let my mind spin while it plays. I keep thinking about the questions she asks; I keep thinking of the doubt she must be going through.

  My phone beeps on my chest, and picking it up, I see it’s a picture from Samantha of her hand holding a taco with the caption.

  Queen of the badass.

  I laugh at her, thinking it’s one small step for her, but I know it’s a huge one.

  I send her back a reply.

  Lock the doors, there is a badass on the loose!

  She sends me back a simple:

  hahaha

  I put the phone down as I continue watching the movie, but my mind isn’t on the movie; it’s on a table some two hours from me where three girls try to fix their broken hearts. She doesn’t call me that night or the night after.

  On my first shift back, I sit on my bunk, wondering if I should call her. I don’t think any more because my fingers have already dialed. She answers after one ring.

  “Hey,” she says, and I smile, listening to her voice.

  “Hey, yourself. Did the taco police take you hostage?” I ask with a smile on my face, and she laughs softly.

  “Very funny,” she says, and I hear rustling.

  “Were you in bed?” I look back at my watch, seeing it’s nine.

  “I was,” she says quietly. “I took another step yesterday.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I ask, my interest piqued.

  “I called Elliot and Ethan and asked them if they wanted any of Eric’s clothes.” I think I stop breathing, listening to her. “Needless to say, it didn’t go over well.”

  “What do you mean?” I sit up in my bed, my blood starting to boil. That whole fucking family needs to be knocked on their asses.

  “Well, there were lots of questions, and then some guilt about erasing him from our lives,” she says as she sniffles again. “How the fuck am I erasing him from our lives when I have his two children?” she asks, and I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone more in my life. “Like I don’t get it.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” I’m not sure why I ask that question. I’m not even sure we qualify as friends.

  “Because I thought you’ve heard me bitch enough over the past couple of days.”

  “Oh, please.” I roll my eyes. “Asking me questions and discussing tacos isn’t bitching.”

  “Tomorrow, I’m painting the house,” she says cheerfully.

  “Are you?” I ask, wondering if her brothers-in-law will help her.

  “I am. The girls and I discussed it, and we are going to do one room at a time,” she tells me, finally a pep in her voice. “We are starting with the kitchen. I wanted a soft yellow; is that a weird color?”

  “Soft yellow?” I ask.

  “Yes, I was researching on Pinterest, and it’s so pretty and uplifting, the color like the soft sun. Besides, no one frowns when they see yellow. It makes you smile.”

  “Does it?” I tilt my head, smiling. “Was that on Pinterest also?”

  “No, that was on Google when I searched for the most cheerful color.” She laughs, and I shake my head with a chuckle. “I’m not kidding.”

  “I would never doubt a woman and Google,” I tell her. “Ever.”

  “Did Eric do things around the house?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I answer. “But in his defense, Hailey always started it when he was gone, and he would finish it for her.”

  She pffts. “Meanwhile, for him to cut the grass, I had to cheer him on.” Her voice isn’t sad this time; it’s kind of the opposite.

  “Okay, so yellow kitchen and then what?”

  “No idea,” she answers. “One room at a time.”

  I shake my head. “You really are a badass.”

  She laughs now, a full belly laugh. “It feels good,” she says, “being a badass. Or maybe it’s you.”

  “Me?” I ask her, but she can’t answer because the siren sounds. “Gotta go.” I disconnect, getting myself downstairs while I get into gear. It’s only four hours later when I check my phone and see she sent me a message as soon as the call came in.

  be safe.

  I look at the clock and see it’s way past one a.m. I’m afraid to wake her up, so I make a note to message her tomorrow. I fall asleep, dreaming of nothing but yellow—yellow sun, yellow sand, and blond yellow hair.

  Samantha

  Samantha

  I wake and check my phone to see if he texted me back while I kiss the girls good morning and head downstairs to start breakfast and make coffee.

  I yell for the girls, and we rush out, catching the bus without a second to spare. When I get back home, I get in my car and hit up Hom
e Depot. I go straight for the paint department, choosing a soft, soft yellow. I pick up everything I need in order to make it happen. I walk to the car with a smile, unloading the car in four trips. I’m finally moving things out of the room when the doorbell rings. I walk to it, seeing it’s Judy.

  “Hey,” I say, opening the door. “Come in.”

  She comes in, smiling, and follows me to the kitchen. “Sorry, I can’t offer you anything. I’m about to start painting.”

  She gasps out in shock as she looks around and sees the mess of the room, the yellow paint poured in the pan in the middle of the room. “What are you doing?” she asks, looking at me.

  “I’m painting the room,” I tell her, thinking it’s pretty obvious as to what I’m doing. “It’s been a long time, and it hasn’t been painted, so why not?”

  “Well, Eric painted this room two years ago,” she says, wringing her hands. “It’s just …”

  “I’ve been asking him to paint this room for a year, and he never did it,” I tell her, picking up the roller. I roll it in the paint and then try it on the wall to see how the color looks. “Isn’t it pretty?” I smile, turning to her and seeing her scowl.

  “No, actually, it’s not.” She folds her arms across her chest. “It’s ridiculous.”

  I shrug my shoulders, not letting her get to me, but the tears start coming as I blink them away, or at least try. “I like it.”

  “This whole thing has gone on long enough,” she says, her words coming out in almost a yell. “Ever since Eric died, you’ve changed. It’s like you aren’t even that person anymore,” she spits out, and I turn around, looking at her.

  “I think you seem to be mistaken on that.” I look at her, my heart pounding and almost breaking when I see the look she is giving me, the look like I’m an afterthought, the look she’d give a stranger. “You see, when Eric died, my entire life came out as a lie.” I blink, and the tears still fall. “Everything that we had for the past twelve years has been playing in my mind.”

  “He made a mistake!” she shouts.