by Silla Webb
“Hey, beauts. Had a feelin’ you’d stop by for lunch today. How ya feelin’?”
“I’m good Luke, waiting on my sister, Savannah. How have ya been?”
“Worried about you, as usual. You know you ain’t gotta hide from me. I don’t bite. What did the doctor say? Everything okay?” He rushes it all out so quickly. I laugh at him and his quick tongue, and he scowls back at me.
“Yeah, Luke. Everything is fine. Just dealing with morning sickness all day and night. I thought it was supposed to be mornings only. Ha, fooled me!” I joke. The corner of his lip curls up into a smirk as he stares at me. “I’m fine really. You shouldn’t worry so much, it’ll turn those beautiful brown locks into greys ya know.”
“You know you don’t have to wear a mask for me, right Carly?” He says as his eyes soften, and his smirk turns into a sad smile. I swear it don’t matter how hard I try to hide, Luke always sees straight through my façade.
“Hopefully one day I won’t have to wear a mask, but for now it’s the only way to cover up the pain.” I wring my hands together to try to stop them from shaking. “But why am I telling you any of this? You see right through me already. You get it.” I shrug with a pathetic smile. He pulls my hand across the table to him, bringing it up to his lips as he feathers a light peck across my knuckles. My breathing hitches as his lips graze the back of my hand, and he notices. He smiles a wicked grin, and releases a hearty chuckle as I pull my hand into my lap.
“Friend zone. I get it. Sorry. I just wanted to see you genuinely smile. It won’t happen again.” He mutters across the table.
“It’s okay.” I smile sincerely. Luke knows he affects me, but he knows it’s just not enough.
The bell over the door dings, and I look away from him briefly to see Savannah walking in. She stops in the doorway, shaking the snow from her hair before she walks to the table. “Sorry I’m late. I swear I’ll be late for my own funeral.” She says quickly, sitting down beside Luke. He turns to greet her and they both still, gazing at each other silently. I clear my throat snapping them both back to reality.
“Luke Ashton.” He reaches out to take her hand, but Savannah doesn’t move, she’s frozen to the chair, gaping back at Luke behind wide eyes. “You alright there, honey?” Luke asks her. She stares back at him for a moment before smiling brightly at him, then reaching her hand out for him to shake.
“I sure am. Savannah Moore. You’re Mr. Bad Ass Biker Guy.”
Oh. Hell. No. She. Didn’t. Just. Say. That.
Yes, she did! I kick her under the table and she lets out a yelp. Luke tosses his head back and laughs at her comment, which earns her another swift kick in the shin. Bitch. She shoots me a questioning look, to which I shrug.
“Mr. Bad Ass Biker Guy? Didn’t know you had a nickname for me, beauts. I think I like it. You plannin’ on callin’ me that all the time now?”
“Keep up with the ego, and it’ll be Mr. Dick Face.” I sneer.
“Carly, I swear I don’t know where you find these devilishly sexy men, but if I ever leave Josh, I’ll be raiding your man candy dish.”
“Oh gross, Savannah, really. I’ve obviously already slept with the man, and you’re married.”
“While I’m flattered at the compliment, can y’all stop talkin’ ‘bout me like I’m not here?” Luke interjects with a look of seriousness. Savannah covers her mouth with the palm of her hand to hide the small giggles that are escaping her lips.
“Sorry.” We both tell Luke in unison. Before he can reply, Tabby is at the table ready to take our orders.
“Do you ladies mind if I join you for lunch since I’m already here? Or should I give you some privacy?” Luke asks.
“Of course not.” Savannah smiles at him innocently, and he returns the smile with a wink. Damn hooker, you’re married! That four carat diamond on your left ring finger tells him so. And when the hell do you wink, Luke? Oh frig!
Savannah strikes up the conversation about my doctor’s appointment, to which Luke hangs on to every word conversed. I don’t know how much he understands about pregnancies, but he doesn’t comment at all, just listens and nods intently. I tell them my expected due date, again. September 6, 2014; and that Dr. Staton is scheduling the Pre-natal Paternity Test. When I mention that, Luke’s demeanor shifts as angst fills his eyes.
“I can’t believe that Colton hasn’t agreed to have the test yet. I swear he is a damn bastard. If I get my hands on him, Carly, I promise his balls are gonna be twisted up tight in the palm of my hand, and he will pray to God that death will come to him before I let go of my death grip.”
“Okay, slow it down there, Killer. There will be no twisted balls of torture, do you understand? He has every right to be upset with me. I just have to give him time to deal with it in his own way.”
“Do you really believe that load of shit you’re feedin’ yourself right now? He ain’t gotta damn leg to stand on. Did you NOT tell him it was over when you left his hospital room that night? You didn’t cheat. You merely drowned your sorrows in Jack and this sexy specimen right here. Can’t blame ya there.” She shrugs.
“Okay, seriously. Knock off the flirting. It’s creeping me out.” I cringe. “It doesn’t matter. I hurt him. I’m no better than he is.”
“He’ll come around, beauts. And if he don’t, you’ll always have me.” Luke says with a smile that meets his eyes.
“Thanks, Luke. I know you truly mean that, but it will all come out in the wash. And if it don’t I’ll move on in my own time. I’m not hanging on to the past anymore. Only damn thing there is cob-web covered secrets that are better left dead and buried.” Tabby choses this moment to bring our food back to the table. Even she is blushing over the smile Luke greets her with. Hell, he’s cute but put your tongue back in your mouth already. For Heaven’s sake.
No, this ain’t the jealous side of me. Not. At. All.
No sooner than the mixed smells invade my senses, my stomach begins to roll in protest. I curl my nose up at the smells, then shove my plate back out of reach. Luke and Savannah both notice my nausea instantly.
“Is there anything that doesn’t make you sick to your stomach?” Luke as, his voice laced with concern.
“Not much.”
“It will pass, hun. It just takes time for your body to get used to the change.” Savannah says, squeezing my hand in hers. I offer them a weak smile and sip my sweet tea as they begin to eat.
After Luke polishes off his double bacon cheeseburger and fries, the direct reason that my stomach was revolting from the smell of greasy meat, he leaves. Savannah’s eyes follow him out of the restaurant, while her lips part and drool begins to form at the corner of her mouth.
“For real? You’re a grown ass, married woman. Put your damn tongue in your mouth.” I scold her, but her only response is a heavy giggle. “Did you forget about Josh?” As soon as his name is mentioned, she pulls back her laughter and washes her face of all emotion.
“You’re right. Sorry. I just never connected Luke to the biker guy, and I guess I let the excitement get the best of me.”
“Excitement? What’s so exciting?”
“He’s just so sexy, and down to earth. Oh what the hell am I sayin’? He’s your best friend, and I’m married. Check.”
“Savannah, what’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you act so out of character?”
“It’s nothing, really. Back to you. Do you think Colton will come around?”
“No, not back to me. You’ve been acting really strange lately. Spill it.”
“I’m fine, Carly. Just stressed. I’ll be okay. Now, back to your situation. Your appointment for the Paternity testing is in a couple of weeks, right? Are you going to ask Colton to go or not?”
“What the hell is the point, Savannah? If the test concludes that Luke ain’t the father, the only other option is Colton. I’m not discussing this with him anymore. He has made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me, so I’m done. When I know the results o
f the paternity, I’ll deal with it all then because there ain’t a damn thing I can change.” I bite back the building tears that are pooling in the corners of my eyes. Savannah knows she has struck a nerve. She places her hand over mine as she begins to speak then releases a low sigh.
“What is it? You’ve not held anything back so far so don’t stop now.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Go ahead, Savannah Marie. Let’s hear it. I’m a big girl.”
“It’s just ironic. The men we love and pour our souls into caring for, are the ones who lash at our wounds and beat us when we are down.”
“Yeah, really ironic.” I don’t prod anymore into Savannah’s statement, because my mind can’t possibly process anything else at this very moment. But I commit her statement to memory, so I can ask her about it later. It’s obvious something is bothering her, she is just being a good big sister and focusing on my problems rather than shedding light on her own.
We approach the counter to pay our checks and say our goodbyes when Savannah turns to me and says, “Oh, I forgot to ask you if you will come by for dinner Saturday?”
“Yeah, I don’t have any plans. What time?”
“Great! You’re my saving grace! Come by around three and you can help me cook.”
“Really? Did you not learn anything from Thanksgiving?” I laugh, taking the to-go cup of sweet tea in my hands.
“Oh you’ve already committed, baby Sis. No backin’ out now.” She laughs, wrapping her arm around my neck in a warm hug.
“Alright Sis, I’ll see ya Saturday. But you owe me one.”
Chapter 10
Façade
fa·cade noun fə-ˈsäd
: a way of behaving or appearing that gives other people a false idea of your true feelings or situation
The alarm clock buzzes at seven AM pulling me from a dream laden sleep, into the treacherous reality of my life. I drag my tired, aching body to the bathroom to freshen up quickly before making breakfast. The kids are bouncing through the house as soon as they hear any sign of movement and quickly begin their Saturday morning fight over the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon. Once the bacon, eggs and French toast are prepared, and the scent of coffee permeates through the house, I carefully wake Josh up to start his day. We sit around the breakfast nook eating in an uncomfortable silence. The only noise that fills the room is the clinking of silverware against the plates and even that earns death glares from Josh.
Once he scarfs down his breakfast, Josh charges out the front door. He spends his Saturdays in the winter at the local gun club with a group of men that he works with. No memories to be made with his children. They’re young, they have plenty of years to spend with their daddy; or so he thinks.
I carry on with my daily chores and weekly grocery shopping before spending a few hours of impromptu fort building and dress up with the twins. After settling the twins in with a mid-day snack and a movie, I make my way to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. Carly should be here soon, but little does she know she’s on baby-sitting duty. After her constant whining and bitching over a little turkey guts at Thanksgiving, there is no way I’ll give her any culinary responsibilities.
Truth be told, I only asked her to join us for dinner tonight so she could serve as a buffer. Once a month, Josh’s best friend/boss joins us for dinner. He’s a nice guy. I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Josh, but I’m always the third wheel when the two of them are together. So while he’s spending the evening drinking with his buddy, I’ll have Carly here to keep me company and to keep Josh’s drunken debacles in check.
Don’t judge me, Carly has had a rough few weeks and getting out of the house will do her some good. I know she despises Josh and who am I to blame her? But she’s the closest person to a ‘friend’ I have.
I live a rather secluded life, focusing on caring for my family and making sure that Josh’s every want, need and desire is met with sheer excellence. Since the twins were born, I don’t have girls nights anymore and I rarely take time to pamper myself with a pedi. Other than the moms that I see at the occasional class holiday party, I have no real friends.
Carly arrives thirty minutes later and I take advantage of her presence, leaving her to watch the kids while I take a hot bath and get dressed for dinner. The pot roast that Josh requested for dinner is simmering in the crock pot, and all there is to finish before he gets home from the gun club is the rolls and whipping the potatoes.
Sinking deep into the tub, I pull my knees up into my chest, wrapping my arms around myself securely. As the steam from the bath envelops the room, the tension on my shoulders begins to melt away, if only for a short while. This is my haven, the only time I have to release the grief and fear that exhausts me. In my haven, I’m briefly able to strip away the mask, and breathe.
The façade I present to the world is impenetrable. Even in the depths of my imprisonment my façade is in place, cemented firmly on my saddened face. Whether I plaster on a smile leading others to believe that the life I live is in bliss, or I’m coating my face in heavy concealer and foundation to cover the bruises that mar my flesh. It’s an exhausting attempt to fool the ones I love, but if my secret were to be revealed, my life would be on the line. There’s no doubt in my mind that Josh will kill me to cover up the truth of his identity. So I tread lightly, tip toeing around in the prison that is my home in hopes that one day I’ll find the strength to escape. I hold on only for Braden and Brailee.
Before time slips away, I pull the drain from the tub and proceed to perfect my appearance for dinner. When I make my way downstairs, my hair is perfectly straightened framing my face, while the makeup that covers my bruised forehead is flawless. The three inch peep toe heels clink against the tile floors of the kitchen, drawing Carly’s attention from the family room. I wrap my apron around my waist and continue to finish dinner as she takes a seat at the island.
“You look beautiful, Savannah. Is it a special occasion? I feel out of place in jeans and a flannel.” She shrugs.
“No special occasion, Sis. Josh just prefers that I dress nicely when we have company for dinner.”
“How sweet, the jackass considers me as company.” She jokes, laughter bubbling from her chest.
“Actually, his boss is joining us for dinner. In fact, I’m not sure I even mentioned that you were joining us. But no worries, once the men are fed, they’ll be drinking the night away until neither of them can stand.” Carly looks to me seriously, with an arched eye brow as she chews on the corner of her lips.
“What does Josh do again? You never really talk about his job.”
“Coal sales.”
“For what company?” Carly asks with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“Oh, I don’t remember, Carly. Josh never discusses his work with me. He works, I tend to the kids. That’s the story of our lives.” That sounds more pathetic than I intend, but it’s the gospel. Sensing my frustration, Carly quickly changes the subject, making small talk about everything from the twins’ to her fond dislike for the winter weather.
When the garage door grinds against the track, signaling that Josh is home, I hurry to finish setting the table while Carly helps the kids wash up for supper. As she makes her way into the kitchen, she pulls glasses from the cabinets for our drinks then follows the kids into the dining room.
“Daddy! Uncle Drew!” The twins screech in excitement! Carly looks up at Josh and Drew in horror and a glass tumbles from her hands, shattering against the floor. Tiny shards of glass scatter in every direction. Fear, laced with anger and hatred sweeps across her face. Her mouth hangs in an open ‘O’ as she glances from Josh to Drew to me. “What the hell?!” She yells, then drops to her knees to pick up the broken glass.
“Carly, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Oh my God don’t drop so fast like that, you could hurt the baby.” I rush to the closet to grab the broom and dust pan to clean up the shards of glass before one of the kids cut their feet. She s
hoots me a deadpan glare, the shakes her head.
“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to break a glass. Just a little surprised is all.”
“The glass is replaceable. No worries.” Once the mess is cleaned up, we take a seat at the table to eat. Carly’s hands are a steady tremble and she gnaws at the bottom of her lip angrily. Not sure what has her all shook up.
“Carly, I didn’t get the chance to introduce you to Drew. He’s Josh’s boss, and best friend.” She nods once, her mouth set in a thick, hard line.
“It’s nice to see you again, Carly.” Drew smirks.
“Drew.” Carly says surly. Her brows are furrowed deeply at the bridge of her nose and a pink heat covers her cheeks.
“Oh, I didn’t know the two of you had met.” I look from Carly, then to Drew who’s paying no mind to the small fit Carly is in.
“We have, a few times actually. Drew is part owner of Dalton Trucking, Savannah.”
Dalton Trucking. Dalton Trucking? Why does that sound familiar? I swallow the bite of pot roast before replying. “Oh, that’s interesting. That’s Colton’s dad’s business, right? Wasn’t Daddy part owner?” Before either can reply Josh interjects, scolding me as usual.
“Damn it Savannah, haven’t I told you we don’t discuss business, especially not at the damn dinner table, and in front of guest? Where are your manners?” He sneers. I cast my head down pulling in a deep breath of air before apologizing for my rudeness. Friction stirs about the room, which isn’t out the ordinary for our home.
“Josh, it’s fine really, brother. We aren’t discussing business, just facts. Savannah, to answer your question, yes. I purchased Big John’s partnership after his passing. I’d been wanting to submerge myself deeper into the coal industry, and owning coal trucks seemed like the smart move from a business perspective.” Carly rolls her eyes, releasing a heavy sigh. It’s clear there is some underlying aggression between her and Drew. I wasn’t aware they had ever met. Maybe it’s a business rivalry I don’t quite understand.