Truly Madly Deeply: Volumes 1-4

by Brenda Pandos

  TRULY MADLY DEEPLY

  Volumes 1-4

  BY BRENDA PANDOS

  © 2015 by Brenda Pandos, All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this ebook can be reproduced, copied, or redistributed on the Internet without written permission of the author. Cover Images © prometeus

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  VOLUME TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  VOLUME THREE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  VOLUME FOUR

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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  OTHER BOOKS BY BRENDA PANDOS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  DEDICATION

  To my husband, with whom I’m truly, madly, and deeply crazy about.

  PROLOGUE

  Anxious to pay the rest of my deposit for the new apartment and get my grubby hands on the keys, I zip down the wet streets of Sacramento as fast as my Civic can go. Putting together first and last month’s rent plus deposit is more money than I’ve been able to save in my life, but I finally did. Allie, my best friend, and I will have our own place, with Allie’s promise she will pay me her half as soon as possible, and in a few minutes the apartment will officially be ours.

  My fingers clench the steering wheel as my stomach hosts an aerial show for the butterflies. Originally, I’d made plans to drop off the money later today after class, but at this point I can’t concentrate and want to surprise Allie. Tonight we’re going to toast in the place and have a slumber party in the living room, then move in the rest of what little junk we have on Saturday, weather permitting. I just want to surprise Allie by decorating and providing some much needed libations.

  The raindrops fall lightly on the windshield, making the reason why we have to wait a day to move more apparent. My bald tires skid as I turn into the parking lot and park. My eyes scan our new home: the manicured bushes, the fenced in pool, the covered parking spots with their own numbered awning.

  I practically skip up the walkway. Bells ring at the apartment manager’s door.

  “You’re early.” Terry, a robust woman with gray hair, gets up from her chair with a small groan, and walks over to the counter that overflows with stacks of paperwork. “Allie said you’d be here after 3.”

  “Allie?” I scrunch up my nose as she rustles through the files to find mine. “She was here?”

  “About thirty minutes ago. Oh, here it is.” Terry slips on her bifocals and flips through our paperwork. “She said she had to drop something off. I normally don’t let people have the keys without fully paying, but she asked because of the rain, and knowing you work for the bank and all, I figured you’d be good for it.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” I smile to hide my curiosity. Allie is supposed to be at work. What is she dropping off that can’t get wet? Did she have the same idea as me? To throw a small party? I’d picked up our favorite chocolate heaven cupcakes from Sugar Mama’s Bakery, and swiped a bottle of liquor from my mom’s pantry.

  Terry clears her throat and holds out her hand. I slip her the Cashier’s Check with more zeros than my paycheck. “Now you know this isn’t refundable if you break your lease. By signing on the dotted line, you’re vouching for your roommate since her credit isn’t that great. Rent is due on the first. In full and will be for a minimum of 6-months, or it’s forfeited.”

  “Oh, of course.” I scrawl out my signature and date it. “She’d never do that to me, besides we plan on being here a long time.”

  “I like to give young folks who are just spreading their wings a chance. But just so you know, Mary lives kitty-corner to you on the bottom floor, and she won’t be so inclined. She’ll have my hide if there’s noise and such, but I have trouble renting out this place, considering it’s a lot smaller than the rest.” Terry’s eyes hold a warning for a second.

  “You can trust me… us. I promise we won’t have any wild parties.”

  “Good then.” She dangles the keys in front of me. “This is to the post box, and this is to the door.”

  The cold keys are laid in my palm. I stare at them for a second, never having felt more grown-up than at that moment. I’d finally be free of Mom’s drinking, of my bratty sister who ruins my stuff, of staying up as late as I want, of having Gage over whenever and for however long as I like. Freedom.

  “Thank you,” I mumble and close my fingers.

  “Great. Then I’ll see you in a month.” She returns to her rolling chair with its torn cushion and threadbare pillow that’s seen better days.

  I leave the office, and jump in the car to drive maybe a few hundred yards to our reserved parking spot. Allie’s crimson Accord sits there, like I’d suspected. Sneaky girl. I can’t wait to see what she’s done to the place.

  Then, I spot Gage’s blue pick-up parked at the farthest corner of the lot. My heart rate picks up. He’s supposed to be in class, too. Is he in on the surprise? Of course, he’d pay the consequences with double the homework, since it’s his hardest class. Hopefully, that won’t overload him so much that he quits, again. Stuck in this perpetual cyclone of self-doubt, he rarely finishes any of the classes he’s started, which is super frustrating.

  I hope having my own place will fix that. We need space away from his life-sucking mother, who’s a mental case. And maybe this will help alleviate our constant fighting, too.

  Yesterday it was over whether or not he should ask his sister for a loan so he could finish remodeling the other side of his mom’s duplex and rent it out for the much needed income. The day before it was over where we’d eat out. Five minutes before that, it was about his road rage. Fifteen before that, it was about him needing a quickie, which I wasn’t in the mood for. Honestly, it really didn’t matter. His ego would never admit I could teach him anything new. Hell. He’d rationalize the sky is green just so he didn’t have to agree with me. The only thing I have going for me is my boobs.

  Any decent girl would say good ri
ddance, especially with his baggage, but I know he can’t help that his mentally ill mother sucks all his energy and leaves nothing for us—except an insatiable sex drive. How I manage to hold onto my v-card is baffling. Maybe I know if we finally do it, he’d knock me up (since my mom got pregnant on every birth control known to man) and I’d have to move in and call her my mother-in-law. Why I stick around is beyond me. Scratch that. I know why. I love him. I also need him to need me.

  Then there is Allie. Multiply baggage times a million, and you’ve got her pegged. Of course she thinks Gage is amazing. Compared to her asshole boyfriends, Gage is a saint—a saint that bags on her whenever she isn’t around. He hates her over-processed white-blonde hair, the whoreish makeup, the skanky clothes, her whiny voice. You name it. So the fact he is going along with this surprise touches me. Maybe he is turning over a new compassionate leaf for her.

  Unable to shield my hair from the rain, I hold a box of powder blue dishes I’d found at the thrift store, and splash through the puddles. I look up to the second story balcony, where I imagine we’d BBQ and sip wine, and try to look through the vertical blinds to see what they’re up to, unable to see anything. Quietly, I climb the stairs. Fumbling for the keys in my pocket while balancing the box on my hip, I wonder if I should go inside at all and ruin their fun.

  I twist the key and turn the knob, my hands cold and shaking. The chain prevents me from opening the door all the way. The moan hits me first. Then, through the crack, I see them, naked and tangled up, writhing against each other. My throat squeezes.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long,” Allie breathes when her glance meets mine.

  Ice sluices down my spine and the box falls from my fingers, crashing at my feet and tumbling down the stairs.

  Allie’s shrieks mix in with Gage’s F-bombs, which are silenced the second I shut the door. I lean against the wall as stars cloud my vision, and I try to catch my breath. The door below opens.

  “What’s going on up there?” the gray haired lady seethes. I’m assuming it’s Mary. Her eyes grow, as they canvas the carnage of ceramic shards that were once a mismatched set of plates and bowls. “Oh my heavens!”

  The door next to me flies open. Gage stands there, shirtless with his jeans hanging loose on his hips, his bulge still pronounced. “Maddy, let me explain,” he says, out of breath. His cheeks hold a slight flush.

  He reaches for me.

  “Don’t touch me!” I move away from his grasp. My toe begins to throb in pain from having dropped the dishes on it. “Explain? Explain what?”

  Beyond him on the floor is some kind of black lingerie. I look away, at anything to scour the image of them from my mind. Bile rolls up my throat and threatens to explode from my mouth. Of course, Allie isn’t anywhere to be seen now, the bitch.

  “I’m just helping Allie move a few things, and…”

  His excuse comes out as smooth as chocolate and her name is like nails dragging down a chalkboard. I swallow down my desire to cuss him out in front of Mary, and glare instead. “You said you hated her.”

  “You need to clean this mess up,” Mary interrupts. “Or I’m calling Terry.”

  “Call her,” I want to scream. I’m going to her office in a few minutes anyway to beg for my deposit back.

  He walks further out on the porch, careful to avoid the glass in his bare feet. “Well take care of it, Ma’am. Sorry to be a bother.”

  She eyes him up and down disdainfully, then harrumphs and closes the door.

  My fists clench at my sides. Everything inside me wants to rip open the door and choke Allie. That, or punch Gage and break his nose, but I don’t want to make a further scene.

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his feet, his face hard as stone. “Come on. Let’s clean this up.”

  My heart pounds so hard, I think it might break free from my ribs. I blink at him for a second in disbelief. Is he going to pretend this is okay? That I’d forgive him? Visions of what I saw keep cycling through my mind in relentless drowning waves. He cheated. And with my best friend, of all people.

  “You clean it up!” I storm down the stairs and run to my car, blinded by my tears the entire way.

  I jump inside and tear out of my spot. The car smashes into something hard. Glass shatters. I suck in a breath and turn around. The hatchback window is giving way to a pole that now occupies the middle of it.

  Today is not my day.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You should take the job.” Mom passes the letter across the tiny cluttered table toward me. The Camp Redwood Springs logo on the top sends a pang of nostalgia and regret. Attending in high school as a camper had been the best days of my life, where I was the cool girl for once. Even still, I glare at it. I’m desperate, yes, but not to become the snack shack coordinator (AKA wench) of all jobs.

  “No.”

  “Let me rephrase that. You will take the job.”

  “What?” I turn to her, practically in tears. “You can’t make me.”

  “You’ve been moping around here for months, and I can’t take it anymore. You’d said you were moving out, and I made arrangements counting on that. And when you didn’t—”

  “Gage cheated. With Allie! How could I move out with her?”

  “I know.” Mom sighed. “But you know my hands are tied on this. We can’t afford to stay here. You’re not paying rent, and don’t get me started on your father who’s refusing child support since you’re way over age.”

  I tune her out, sick of her typical rant. Her drinking drove Dad away, and if I could have moved out, I would have. Escape her shrill voice, her stupid rules, her mood swings, finding her passed out on the couch. “I can’t help that I lost my job, Mom, and Gage…”

  “If I hear one more thing about Gage… I swear.” She sucks in a breath and paces the length of the tiny kitchen in two strides, and pours herself a drink.

  My shoulders collapse. The window for a rational discussion will close in about fifteen minutes, and she won’t remember anything she’s promised.

  Within seconds, she’s leaning against the counter. The ice clinks in the glass. “Look. I’m sorry he cheated on you and you lost the deposit. Men suck, but the job thing. That could have been avoided.”

  “It wasn’t my fault!” I almost yell. “We were shorthanded, and all the big wigs care about is the asinine shareholders as we work like dogs.”

  That day, along with Gage and Allie’s hookup, continually gnaws through my mind like a hungry rat. The moment I finished counting my drawer at the bank, the computer said I was one thousand dollars short. The panic rose in me when I realized what had happened, that I’d credited a customer more money than they’d given me, and I didn’t follow protocol and ask anyone to double count with me. When the customer said it was what they gave me, taking the grand, I was canned immediately for it.

  “Accident or not, you haven’t found another job, and I can only beg the landlord for an extension so long. They want to raise the rent, and there’s no room for you or your crap in our new place. You’re twenty . You’re old enough to fend for yourself.”

  My bratty sister watches from the hallway with a smirk on her lips. I want to claw her eyeballs out. Her smile would vanish soon after I left and wasn’t able to pick up the pieces of Mom’s drunken shenanigans. How they plan to share a bedroom is beyond me.

  Mom stands before me, eyes glazed over from her first sip. “Look at this as a God send. You’ll have something on your resume besides being fired. Marge will give you a glowing recommendation.”

  Marge, my mom’s best and only friend, had sent the letter desperate for someone to fill the position when the other candidate fell through last minute. She’s up a creek. I’m her paddle.

  I mean if it were a counseling job, which was a dream of mine at one time, I’d consider it. Working the snack shack is just humiliating.

  “She mentioned that if you wanted, you could stay year round. There’s housekeeping and food prep jobs, too, wi
th housing. Or maybe you’ll meet someone.”

  “What?” I make a face. Trust someone new? Yeah, right. “How could you even say that?”

  “I didn’t mean another guy. I meant a roommate.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Oh, like that’s better.”

  “I know they hurt you.” She touches my arm. “Things will get better.”

  “And how’s that working for you?” The minute I say it, I want to take it back.

  Tears burgeon on Mom’s eyelids, and she downs the rest of her drink. She was cheated on, too, when Dad left us for that woman. She hasn’t dated since. “You’re going, and that’s final.”

  I jump up, take my car keys, and march for the door, slamming it on my way out. I have three weeks. I will find a job before then and be rid of her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  After packing up everything I own, I pull together my last shred of self-respect before gently closing the refurbished hatchback door shut. Uncle Jimmy scored one from the pick-n-pull and kindly put it on for me. The bumper still looks like a pretzel, but at least the hatch shuts, if I close it just right.

  “A new start is about to begin.” Mom holds out my loved oversized teddy bear, the last gift my father had given me on my tenth birthday. “You’ll see.”

  I inhale sharply and manage a smile. “Yeah,” I hope so.

  I’d run out of time, and becoming the snack shack wench to a bunch of demanding hormonal brace-wearing teens on sugar highs, telling me to “hurry up,” is my lot in life. I’d gone from the prestige of a bank job, to this. If only I hadn’t spent all of my savings to move out with a lying, two-timing bitch like Allie, I would have run away. Fill up my car and drive somewhere no one knew me, and start over.

  And as if on cue, Hannah joins Mom’s side with a lollipop in her mouth, and her smug smile. She will have Mom’s undivided attention now—well, when she isn’t worshiping the bottle.

  “Have fun.” She flashes a toothy grin.

  I smirk, withholding my comment to “prepare yourself.” Her day will come. Mom gave me a hug, lingering longer than normal.

  “I wish things were different, I really do.”