This Is Forever (This Is Series 4)

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This Is Forever (This Is Series 4) Page 16

by Natasha Madison


  “Call me when you get there to let me know you got there okay,” I say when we get to the vehicle. “Then you call me when you are coming home.”

  “I’m going to be fine,” she says and takes the key from me. “You call me if you have any questions with Dylan.”

  “I got him covered,” I say. She leans up, and I lean down, and we kiss goodbye.

  “Maybe tonight we can work on that making out on the couch,” she says, climbing into the driver’s seat and smiling at me as she starts the SUV. I watch her back out and make her way out of the garage before I make my way back upstairs.

  I slam the door and go to the kitchen first. “I’m back,” I say, grabbing an empty plate and filling it with food.

  “Why did you walk Mom out?” Dylan asks, getting up and rinsing off his plate.

  “When it’s a girl, you always walk her to the car and make sure she leaves safely,” I say. “And you always open the door for her.”

  “Do girls walk you to your car?” he asks, and I shake my head.

  “It’s a guy thing,” I point out to him. “It makes them know you like them.”

  “But what if I don’t like the girl?” he says and then leaves the plate in the sink.

  “You still walk her to her car and make sure she leaves,” I say.

  “You always, always take care of the girls.”

  He shrugs at me. “Can I go play?”

  “Wash your hands with soap and then fold the covers,” I say. He walks back to the sink and washes his hands with more soap.

  “We can’t leave the food out,” he says. “Or else the bugs come, and once they come, they never leave.”

  “What?” I ask him.

  “Once, I left a plate in the sink, and I didn’t rinse it off. The cockroaches came, and it took forever for them to leave. They were everywhere.” I look at him. “She said it wasn’t my fault, but I knew it was,” he says quietly. “She used to be up all night sometimes cleaning and doing these homemade tricks.”

  “Your mom is great at taking care of stuff,” I say, trying not to think about her running herself at both ends. “How about you go fold the covers, and then we can hit the gym a bit before we work on the video game?”

  He skips to the back room, and I finish eating, and then I put the leftover food on the stove with plastic wrap over it. “I’m done!” Dylan yells and comes back into the kitchen. “Can I have a snack?”

  “You can have a banana or some peanut butter,” I say, going to the bedroom and grabbing my sneakers. “Ready?” I ask him when I come back and see him finishing off a banana. He nods and follows me out to the next apartment that I have. An apartment I didn’t tell Caroline about. It holds my home gym, and it also has extra bedrooms for when my family visits. I run on the treadmill while I set Dylan up with two-pound weights, and for the next hour, we work out side by side. “You did good, buddy,” I say while he drinks water. I look at my phone and see that she hasn’t called yet.

  “Let’s go back and take a shower, and then we can get started on the game,” I say. When he gets into his shower, I call the number, but she doesn’t answer. I don’t want to worry, but I do anyway, and when I’m about to dial her again, I get a text.

  Caroline: I’m fine. I got to work five minutes ago, and I’m late. I’ll explain later. Is everything okay?

  Me: Everything is fine. Just worried.

  She doesn’t answer me, and when I finally shower and get out, Dylan is waiting for me in the kitchen. “I had a snack,” he says. I laugh and make a protein shake, then I make him a fruit smoothie.

  We spend the afternoon playing the game, and at the end of three hours, he has schooled me in seven games. “Okay, buddy,” I say, turning it off. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” he asks, getting up and placing the remote next to mine.

  “We are going to go pick up things for dinner and then get your mom some flowers,” I say. He holds my hand as we go downstairs, and I take out the BMW.

  “What are we going to eat?” he asks, and I look at him in the back seat.

  “Your mom said she likes Italian, so let’s get stuff to make spaghetti,” I say, and he nods eagerly.

  We make it to the grocery store, and I’ve already googled a recipe, so we walk in and grab a cart. He walks next to me as I tell him what we need, and he picks up the items and puts them in the basket. He holds back at first, and when I tell him to go pick out dessert, I see him looking at the prices. “Whatcha doing?” I ask, standing next to him.

  “That’s ten dollars,” he says, pointing at the fruit pie. “That’s a lot of money for a pie.”

  I try not to grab all the pies and show him that he doesn’t have to worry about it. “It is,” I tell him, “but I’m lucky I have a really good job, and it’s not that much money for me.”

  “Really?” he asks, almost shocked. “I want to do that job then.” He picks up the pie and puts it in the basket. By the time we leave, we have enough food for three weeks. I get him in the car and then look over at him. “Where are we going now?”

  “To get flowers,” I say.

  “For Mom?” he asks. “Because you like her?” I nod. “But it’s not her birthday.”

  “That makes it even more special,” I say. “You always give them flowers just because.”

  “But why?” he asks.

  “So they know you are thinking about them,” I say. “So they know how special they are to you.”

  “I want to buy Mom flowers,” he says. “Will you lend me the money?”

  I want to laugh out loud. “You got it,” I say. When we enter the flower shop twenty minutes later, he walks straight to the woman. “I want some flowers for my mom,” he tells the lady, who smiles at him and looks at me. “Her favorite color is purple.”

  “Is this for a special occasion?” the lady asks.

  “No, it’s just to tell her that I love her,” he says, and I could swear I hear her swoon.

  “Why, aren’t you the cutest?” she says and then looks at me. “You got yourself a special little boy there,” she says, and I suddenly beam with pride.

  “He’s one of a kind,” I say, putting my hands on his shoulders and squeezing them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Caroline

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I puff out, almost running into the reception area, my hands still shaking from when I walked into my apartment.

  “It’s fine,” Tamara, the daytime receptionist, says. “You have ten rooms to get done by three,” she says, handing me a clipboard with the room numbers. “I marked off the rooms that have already checked out.”

  “Thank you,” I say, trying to get my heart to settle, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon.

  “I’ll keep you informed on the rooms as they check out,” she says, handing me the walkie-talkie. I take it and walk out of the reception area, and the phone rings in my purse. I pick it up and see that it’s Justin, and I know that if I hear his voice right now, I’m going to start crying, and there is no time for that. When I don’t answer, he calls again, and this time, I just send him a text.

  Me: I’m fine. I got to work five minutes ago, and I’m late. I’ll explain later. Is everything okay?

  I walk into the employee room and store my purse in my locker and change into the uniform. I slip on my running shoes when the phone beeps, and I look down.

  Justin: Everything is fine. Just worried.

  I tuck the phone into my pocket and walk up the outside stairs to the third floor. I walk down the pathway while the hot air sticks to me. A man opening one of the doors and pushing his luggage out smiles at me and then walks toward the stairs. I grab the cart and make my way to the closest room. After parking it right in front of the room, I look over the railing and take in the parking lot when a car backfires. I open the first room, and the cool air hits me right away. I put the wooden stopper under the door and go to turn off the A/C. I walk back to the cart and put on the rubber gloves
and then go into the room and start stripping the bed.

  Closing off my mind for the next six hours, I finish the last room five minutes after three. I park my cart back in the supply room and load it for the person tomorrow. I walk back into the employee room, and my mind starts to wander even more now.

  “Here you are,” I say, handing Tamara the clipboard with all the rooms checked off. “All of them are done.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “I’ll let you know about next week.” I nod at her and turn to walk to the SUV, getting in and starting it. I make my way back to Justin’s apartment with a heavy lump in my stomach like a pound of coal.

  I call him right before I get there. “Hello.” He answers right away, and he sounds like he’s doing something.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I say. “I’m going to be at your place in five minutes. I just don’t know how to open the garage door.”

  “The code to get in is 7-4-2-3,” he says. “See you soon.” He hangs up, and I just look down at the phone that is now on the locked screen. When I get there, I put in the code. It opens right away, and I make my way to the parking spot.

  Grabbing my purse and the little plastic bag that holds our clothes for tomorrow, I walk to the elevator. When I enter it, another man also steps into it, and he presses his own number. He just looks over at me and nods. I look down at the floor the whole time, waiting for him to ask me what I’m doing here.

  When he gets out, all he says is, “Have a great night.” I look up and smile as the doors close and take me up to Justin’s floor. When I get to his floor, I’m expecting to see the door closed, but instead, they are both standing there waiting for me.

  I try not to let the tears come, but they come anyway, and the look on Justin’s face goes from a smile to a worried look. He looks at me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Mom, we got you something!” Dylan says, and I wipe the tears away and pretend to smile. He’s so excited about this surprise that he has for me that he doesn’t realize I was crying. He takes my hand in his and pulls me to the kitchen where two huge bouquets sit.

  “This one is from me,” he says, pointing at the massive bouquet of purple flowers. “It’s just to tell you that I love you,” he says. I look at the flowers and realize it’s more flowers than I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper. The tear escapes, and I wipe it away. “This is the most beautiful,” I say to him, hugging him and trying not to sob.

  “Mine is bigger than Justin’s,” he says with happiness in his voice.

  “I’m trying to explain to him that size doesn’t matter,” Justin says, and I close my eyes. “It’s not working.” I let go of Dylan and see the bouquet next to his filled with colorful flowers in a glass vase with a lilac bow.

  “Dylan, you can go play the game now while I talk to your mom.”

  “Okay,” he says and is about to run out of the room. “Can I have a snack?”

  “Yeah, there’s fruit on the table.” He points at the fruit bowl, and Dylan just hops and skips over, taking a green apple and then going away.

  I avoid Justin’s eyes, knowing that I’m on the edge of a cliff and about to jump off. “Mind telling me why you are crying?”

  I look down at my finger, and I feel him coming close to me. His hand covers mine, and with just his touch, I break down and put my other hand in front of my mouth and sob. He turns me around and takes me in his arms, and I swear he smells like home. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, and I start to shake. “I’m trying really hard right now not to freak out.”

  He rubs my back and kisses the top of my head. “But I’ve been a nervous wreck all day, and I’ve wanted to call you, no lie, maybe a million times to find out if you were okay.”

  Listening to his heartbeat, I avoid looking at him when I say the next words. “My apartment was vandalized.” I close my eyes when his body goes rock solid.

  “Let me check on Dylan real quick,” he says, walking out and leaving me here. I just stand here in this room that smells like a flower shop. I turn my head when I see him in the entryway of the room. “He’s fine. I gave him another snack.” I look at him. “I need you to tell me what happened,” he says.

  I take a deep breath and relive the morning that is now burned in my memory. “I went home, and the minute I put the key in the lock, I knew something was off,” I say, and he puts up his hand.

  “And you went in anyway?” he asks, his voice tight. I nod at him, and he puts his head back and looks at the ceiling.

  “Well, when the door opened, I saw it right away,” I say, his hands going into fists. “The food was all over the floor. The drawers were pulled out and dumped on the floor. The plates smashed all around the room as if someone just tossed them like Frisbees.” I try to get it all out once and for all. “The bedroom was the worst.” I take a deep breath. “They tossed everything on the floor and cut through the mattress.”

  “Motherfucker,” he hisses out and charges to me, grabbing me by my hand and pulling me to his bedroom, then closing the door behind us. He walks to the bed and sits down and pulls me down next to him, but my leg starts to shake, and I have to get up and walk, so I pace in front of him. “What did the police say?”

  “The police?” I laugh bitterly. “The last time this happened, I called and all they did was take a report. They did nothing,” I say, recalling when it happened the first time. The minute I mentioned Andrew and that he was on drugs, it was like I was wasting their time. They took the report because that is their job, but I doubt they did anything else with it. “I don’t know what they were looking for, but there was nothing there for them,” I start to say. “The futon was also slashed to the point where there is no way it can be salvaged, and the wooden frame looks like someone kicked in every single slat. They even put holes in the walls, and now I’m going to have to patch them up before the landlord sees it and evicts me for good this time.” I walk back and forth. “The bathroom was the only thing not touched.”

  “Are you done?” he asks, and I look at him.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “You could have been home last night,” he says, his voice almost in a whisper, but anger is clearly radiating off him. “You could have been in the middle of that, you and Dylan, and it might have had a different outcome.”

  “I mean,” I say, “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” he says, and my head snaps back.

  “What does that mean?” I say.

  “It means that you could have been there. It means that the person could have come inside the house and beat and raped you while Dylan watched,” he says, his voice trembling. “I don’t want you to go back there. I don’t want you in that place.”

  “Justin,” I say. Walking to him, I step in the middle of his legs and he wraps his hands around my legs. “I would never put myself in that position.”

  “They came into your house. Do you think they knocked before coming in?” he says, and my hands come up to hold his face in my hands.

  “I can’t just pick up and leave,” I tell him as much as I would love to.

  “You can get another place,” he says, and I smile at him. I smile for the first time today. “A place where Andrew doesn’t know where you’re at.” He blinks. “A place where you can have peace of mind and not worry about someone coming to hurt you or get information from you because of Andrew.”

  “I just …” I start and then decide to bare my soul to him. “I would love nothing more. If I ever get a chance to move, I would do it in a heartbeat. I would leave this crappy fucking town behind me and never look back.”

  “Will you let me help you?” he asks. “I mean, not leave this crappy fucking town because I really want you here with me.” He blinks away the tears. “Let me help you find someplace that is safe for you and for Dylan.”

  “Justin, I can’t let you do that,” I say. “I can’t let you just …”

  “Let me be the one who protects
you for once.” His hands rub the backs of my legs. “Let me be the one who holds your hand for once.”

  “You really are that perfect person,” I say, leaning down to kiss his lips.

  “Not even close,” he whispers, “but with you, I want to be as perfect as I can be.”

  “Where is everybody?” We hear Dylan yell. “Mom,” he calls my name. “Justin.”

  “In here, buddy,” Justin says, and the door opens, and he stands there looking at us.

  “Is the food almost ready?” he asks, and I look at him. “We made food.”

  “What?” I ask, looking at him and then Justin.

  “Justin said after a long day at work, it’s good to come home to a home-cooked meal so you know we missed you.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, and he just nods.

  “Why don’t you go take a bath?” Justin says. “And I can get dinner ready.”

  “What?” I step back.

  “We can talk about all this after,” he says, and then Dylan’s eyes go big.

  “Yeah, Mom, we have another surprise,” he says, and this time, he jumps up and down. “Can we show her? Can we show her?”

  “Sure,” Justin says, and I have to stop smiling so much because my face hurts.

  “Come see, Mom,” he says, turning and running away.

  “Do I want to know?” I ask Justin, and he just shrugs.

  “Mom,” Dylan sings my name. “Come on, come on.” I walk out of the room and go to the game room, and Dylan is jumping up and down. “Close your eyes,” he says, and I close my eyes. He takes my hand, and I walk blindly into the room. “Surprise,” he says, and I open my eyes, and I stare at the room in shock.

  “What …” I start to say, “is this?” I look around.

  “It’s a fort for movie night,” Dylan says excitedly, still jumping up and down. Sheets are tied up to the ceiling and hang down to look like the top of a tent, all around the couch. “Come see inside,” he says, crawling inside, and pillows are everywhere and covers along with snacks are on the table. “Look, it’s a fort.”

 

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