Abandon (Shattered Hearts, 3.5)

Home > Romance > Abandon (Shattered Hearts, 3.5) > Page 15
Abandon (Shattered Hearts, 3.5) Page 15

by Cassia Leo


  The beeping of the machine next to me is soothing as I think of my favorite memory of Grandma. “Remember my ninth birthday? We had just moved down here from Maine and, man, the weather is so much hotter here in August than it is over there. You invited a bunch of the neighborhood kids – kids I didn’t even know – and we all played hide-and-seek in the backyard for hours. When it was time for the cake, you told me I had to count to three before I made a wish. And you know what I wished for? You’ll get a kick out of this. I wished for Molly to stop throwing up on me.”

  I whip my head around at the sound of footsteps. It’s Molly, and Elaine is standing at the doorway. Molly closes the door on Elaine and I’m so thankful for Molly’s strength.

  Tears stream down her face as she pulls up a chair next to me. “Did I stop barfing on you?”

  I wrap my arm around her and she rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, you did, but I think it had more to do with the fact that Grandma knew how to take better care of you.” But that didn’t stop me from believing that counting to three was the secret to making all my wishes come true.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  When I walk into Senia’s room, she’s awake and staring at the ceiling. She tries to turn her head at the sound of my voice, but the pain stops her. I rush to her side and I don’t care if she can see the tears in my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I lean in to kiss her forehead. “I’m so sorry I left you behind.”

  I grab her hand and she squeezes it against her chest. “The baby’s gone.”

  “I know.” I smooth her dark hair away from her face and kiss her forehead again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

  She shakes her head and more tears slip loose from the corners of her eyes. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have worn those stupid heels.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t even think that.” I squeeze her hand and clench my jaw as I try to stay strong for her.

  “Where did you go?” she whispers. “Where’s Molly?”

  “Baby, I need to tell you something.” Her eyes squeeze shut and I lean in to kiss the tears on her temple. “I need to tell you everything.”

  And I tell her everything; so much more than I told Molly. I want her to know the darkest parts of me, because those are the parts that will make her want to leave. When I’m done, her nails are digging into my hand. I gently pry her fingers loose and brush the tears from her cheeks.

  “I always thought that if anyone knew the truth, if anyone knew the real me, and the things I’m capable of, no one would love me, and what’s the point of letting someone fall in love with a lie. So it was easy – I never fell in love and I never spoke to anyone about it until today. I never had a reason to. But you give me so many reasons to do things I never thought I could do. I just want to be better for you. I want to be better in your eyes.”

  “I hate that bitch now and I’m so sorry I questioned you when you left.” I chuckle a little at this passionate response, but Senia’s face is full of anguish. “Now I know why you go from perfect to jerk in two seconds flat. But I’m sorry I ever doubted you. And I’m sorry if I ever doubt you in the future. I’m sure this will come as a total surprise to you, but I’m not perfect either. I mean, I’m practically defective now.”

  “You’re not defective. Your CAT scan said your head was still perfect.” I brush my thumb across her cheekbone and she latches onto my hand. “Perfect in every way.”

  “I’m not talking about my head,” she says, heaving a deep, exhausted sigh.

  “I know. But you didn’t lose the baby because you’re defective. It happened because life isn’t perfect. Not you.”

  “Lie with me?”

  It takes me a moment to figure out how to lower the side rail on her bed, then she carefully turns onto her side so I can scoot in next to her. She lays the side of her head on my chest as I wrap my arm around her shoulders. I stroke her arm for a while, trying to pretend I can’t hear her crying.

  “I had names picked out already.”

  “What names?”

  “Kalen for a girl and Cross for a boy.”

  “I like Kalen, but I can’t agree to Cross.”

  She breathes in deeply and I can feel the trembling in her chest against my chest. “What boys’ names do you like?”

  “I was kind of hoping we could have a Junior.”

  “But that’s so cliché.”

  “And Cross is not a cliché? Didn’t you say you were reading a book with a character named Cross? We’re not naming our kids after characters.”

  “Didn’t your mom name you after Tristan and Isolde?”

  “That doesn’t count. Our son will be named Tristan. That is my only request.”

  She’s silent for a moment before she speaks again. “How’s your grandma?”

  I tighten my grip on her shoulder as I think of what the doctor told me shortly before I came in here. “The doctor said that he doesn’t think she’s going to come off the respirator soon; or, possibly, at all. And … and even if she does come off, she’ll be in a lot of pain.”

  Senia uses the sheet to wipe the tears from her face this time. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

  “We have to find her will tomorrow. I’m pretty sure that she’s specified she doesn’t want to stay on any kind of life support. She told us she wants to go quietly. But I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  The pain wells up inside me and I try my hardest not to conjure up images in my mind of a life without Grandma Flo.

  “I don’t know what this will do to Molly,” I continue. “I don’t know how I’m going to take care of her for the next five years until she becomes an adult. I don’t know the first thing about raising a teenager.”

  “You’ll figure it out. You didn’t know anything about playing the bass when Chris came to you and asked if you wanted to start a band, and look at you now.”

  I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. Her fingers smell like antibacterial hand soap. I hold the backs of her fingers against my cheek to feel the softness of her skin, then I lay a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

  “What am I going to do with you? You always know what to say. You’re always outsmarting me.”

  She finally lets go a small chuckle, which is quickly followed by a small whimper. “You did beat me at hide-and-seek,” she replies, her voice once again muffled by grief. Then she squeezes out a few words that are completely unrelated and totally unexpected. “I thought when I told you I was pregnant, you would tell me to get lost.”

  I want to ask her why she would think that, but, if I were her, I would have thought the same thing about me five weeks ago. I would not have imagined myself inviting a pregnant girl to live with me and I definitely would never have imagined myself confessing my love to her and talking about weddings.

  She clutches the front of my shirt in her fist. “I thought when you found out about the baby today, you’d leave me here alone.”

  “What? I … don’t even know what to say to that. You thought I’d just abandon you like that?”

  “I’m sorry. I just had this horrible feeling that the only reason you were with me was because of the baby.”

  “I know you can’t move your head to look at me right now, but listen to these words carefully and never forget them … I’m sorry I used to be the kind of person who would do something like that. And I will never abandon you. I wasn’t with you because of the baby. The baby was just the icing on a very fucking delicious cake. Do you believe me?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, what choice do I have?”

  “You have no choice. You’re stuck with me, for worse or for worse.”

  “I’m so tired.” I move to slide out of the bed, but she holds tightly to my shirt. “Don’t go.”


  I loosen my grip on her shoulder and adjust my position a little so she can get more comfortable. “So what do we do now?”

  “How about we vow to never screw up the way we did outside Yogurtland?”

  “I can’t promise that. What happened outside Yogurtland was one of the smartest mistakes I’ve made in a long time. I hope I get to make those kinds of mistakes with you for … forever.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  After spending a restless night in the hospital, trying to decide if I should sit next to Grandma or lie with Senia, they finally discharge Senia at 6 a.m. and she calls her sister, Maribel, to pick her up. The look on her face as she sits down in the passenger seat of her sister’s car breaks me apart. I kneel next to her and cradle her face in my hands, resting my forehead against hers.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” I say as I plant a kiss on her nose and release her. I lower my hand to her abdomen and she lays her hand over mine.

  She bites her lip as it begins to tremble. “I know.”

  It turns out the third lawyer I left a message for was the one who drew up Grandma’s will. He calls me at 9:06 a.m., as if I’m the first person he decided to call after listening to all his voicemail messages. That, or I was the only message he had. Either way, I’m just glad to hear his voice. I’m even more glad when he tells me that I can come in that morning to go over the will.

  After waiting around for nearly two hours for a second social worker to show up at the hospital, Elaine decided she couldn’t wait any more and left before the social worker got there. When the social worker, Mrs. Greenlee, arrived, she was more than happy to allow Molly to stay with me until everything is sorted out with Grandma’s will. It was less paperwork for her and I think she could see by the weariness in our faces that we had been through enough.

  I send Elaine a text telling her to arrive at the lawyer’s office by 10 a.m. or I won’t hesitate to dredge up a witness to her sick crimes. I would never, in a million years, contact Ashley to ask her to talk about what happened nine years ago just for my sake. But, if I had to, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it for Molly.

  Elaine strolls into the waiting room at Lynch & Mellman, LLC, trailed closely by her new boyfriend, Joe, and his pedo-stache. Like I was ever going to allow Molly to go anywhere with those two. She’s wearing sunglasses indoors at 10:07 a.m. and carrying a carton of milk with a straw sticking out. Her gait is loose and weighed down, but it isn’t until she starts scratching her neck and scalp that I realize she’s high.

  I clench my jaw to keep from saying something I’ll regret before we read the will, then I stand from the chair and head for the receptionist’s desk. “We’re ready,” I tell her and she smiles shyly at me as she tucks her blonde hair behind her ear.

  “Where’s Molly?” Elaine asks in that nasally slurred tone I thought I’d never hear again after I moved out of Grandma’s house.

  “At home, where she should be,” I reply as the receptionist leads us down a hallway to Jonah Lynch’s office.

  This is a tiny law office, but I didn’t expect much for an estate planning lawyer in Raleigh. Still, something about the quaintness of this space makes me uneasy. It could just be knowing that Grandma was in here four months ago discussing what she wanted to happen after her death. She’s not even gone and I can already feel her presence everywhere.

  We enter Jonah’s office and he rounds the desk to greet us near the door. The office is bigger than I expected and it has a decent view of the eastern parking lot where the sun would rise if he ever came in early or stayed way too late; not that I have any illusions of estate lawyers being that passionate about their work. But I hope Jonah has more than a few drops of compassion in him because I may need it if Elaine sets me off today.

  “Please have a seat,” Jonah says, motioning to the two chairs in front of his mahogany desk.

  He looks fairly young, maybe early thirties, with neat brown hair and a blue suit that looks like it may even have been tailored for him. I don’t know why, but I trust him just by looking at him. I hope that’s the way Grandma felt when she came here.

  “Maybe he should wait outside,” I say, pointing my thumb at Joe. “He’s not family.”

  “Don’t be such a prick. He can stay,” Elaine slurs and Jonah looks uncomfortable. He can probably tell she’s not sober.

  “Fine,” I reply, keeping my eyes on Jonah’s face. “Can we just get this over with?”

  Jonah nods as he lifts a blue folder from his desk and opens it up. “First of all, let me say that I’m very sorry for what you’re going through.”

  Elaine lets out a slow, low-pitched whimper as she begins to cry. Jonah looks to me for guidance and I nod my head for him to continue, but I’m angry. I’m angry at myself that I can hear Elaine’s cries and feel anything other than contempt. She doesn’t deserve my pity, yet I can’t help but feel bad for her. She’s losing the only parent she has left.

  “Here’s a copy of your grandmother’s will, if you’d like to read along,” Jonah says, handing me a large white envelope.

  I don’t bother opening it. I don’t think I could handle seeing the words printed on paper.

  An hour later, we walk out of Lynch & Mellman, LLC, with the knowledge that my grandmother left me all her assets and, not surprisingly, she does not want to be kept on life support. No one says a word, until we reach the parking lot and I speak directly to Joe.

  “I don’t know how much of this she’ll remember later, so you need to be straight with her and make her read her copy of the will.”

  “I know what’s going on,” Elaine insists. I can’t see her eyes through the dark sunglasses and she’s hanging onto Joe’s wrist like a lifeline. “I ain’t as stupid as you think. I understood that lawyer-talk. I know she’s givin’ you everything because she hates me. I ain’t … I ain’t stupid.”

  I shake my head at this response. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty for the fact that Grandma trusted me more than you.” I turn back to Joe. “When she’s sober, tell her everything and make her read it, even if she says she remembers. And tell her I’ll allow her to attend the funeral, but then make sure to tell her that I don’t give a shit if she ends up homeless for the rest of her life. She’s not getting a dime from Grandma or me, but … but if she wants the house, I’ll pay for her to go to rehab. Once she’s clean for a year, I’ll give her the house – no strings attached – as long as she promises never to come looking for Molly or me. Is that clear?”

  Joe raises his craggily eyebrows as if he’s not impressed. “You can’t just forget your family.”

  “She’s not my family. Never has been.”

  I walk away feeling lighter than I’ve felt for the past two days. I still have to go to the hospital and do the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I can do it now knowing for certain that it was Grandma’s last wish. And after all the wishes that came true for me because of her, this is the least I can do.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  We hold a small ceremony at the funeral home for Elaine to attend. Then we hold a private ceremony the next day where we bury Grandma’s ashes on a frosty morning under an elm tree in the backyard of our house in Cary. It’s January 5th. Chris and Claire and Jake and Rachel cut their honeymoons short so they could be here with us. Everyone heads inside to escape the cold, but Molly and I stay outside to spend just a little while longer with Grandma.

  “We’re not guaranteed anything good in this life, Molly, but Grandma was something good.” I stare at the pewter urn that holds what’s left of the strongest woman I’ve ever known and I can’t believe I didn’t spend every waking moment of her final weeks with her since the diagnosis. “We were lucky.”

  Molly sniffs loudly and wipes at her face. “I wish I felt lucky.”

  “Yeah, me too.”
>
  She grabs my forearm and the look on her face breaks my heart. “Sit with me for a while?” We sit on the cold, wet grass in silence for a few minutes before she speaks. “Grandma told me … she told me she had a dream that Senia had a baby girl. I forgot about this until last night when I was going through my room and I saw the dream catcher she gave me last year. She told me that she knew when you were born that you were destined to be surrounded by pretty girls for the rest of your life.” She stuffs her hands in her coat pockets and smiles. “I wish I’d told her that I’m not so pretty, just to get a smile out of her. I miss her smile already.”

  This comment gives me an idea. Tonight, I’ll ask Senia to help me create a photo book for Molly composed solely of pictures of her and Grandma smiling. Senia was so happy when she finally found the box of old photos she needed for her project. She told me last night about all the plans she has to keep Molly busy over the next few weeks: a tour of the UNC campus, dinner with Chris and Claire, a winter bonfire in Carolina Beach, just to name a few. I was surprised to find that Molly had no objections to any of Senia’s suggestions.

  “I have a pretty nice smile, too. Don’t you agree?” I reply and she pushes me sideways.

  “No, I don’t agree.”

  “Well, you’re the only one, but you are kind of weird, so that makes sense.”

  “Does Senia actually like it when you say stuff like that?”

  “Senia loves it when I tell her she’s weird.”

  She pulls one of her hands out of her coat pocket and reaches forward to break off a blade of frosty grass. She holds it up in front of her face, tilting it up and down and side to side as she watches the microscopic droplets of dew catch the rays of morning light. “You know what I’ll miss more than her smile?”

 

‹ Prev