Words Left Unsaid

by Missy Johnson

  I straighten my shirt and reach for my jacket on the backseat of the car. Something clatters to the floor. I reach behind my seat and poke around until my hand closes over the object. I pull it up and find myself staring at Tilly’s elusive pink hairbrush. Chuckling to myself, I tuck it into my bag. Well, that saves me a trip to the store.

  I’m about to get out of the car when my phone rings. I pick it up, recognizing the number as work. A pit forms in my stomach as I press answer.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Kiara, hi, it’s Adam. You’re having a fine day, I take it?” he asks, his tone suggesting he really doesn’t want an answer.

  I swallow a laugh. Sure. Broken down—in more ways that one—is how I like to spend all my mornings.

  “So listen, I’m going to be totally honest with you. Things just aren’t working out. We need someone who is willing to put their career first, and frankly you haven’t shown us any of that motivation over the last few months. You’ll be paid two weeks’ pay in your final check. I really do wish you well.”

  The call is ended before I can even process what the hell just happened. Did he seriously just fire me over the phone without even giving me a chance to rebut? Angry, I grip my hands on the steering wheel.

  This day just keeps getting better and better.

  “Cunts,” Elli rants, making me smile. Seeing my perfectly dressed and well-mannered little sister use such a dirty cuss word is hilarious.

  “I know, but we knew it was coming.” I sigh. “Now I need to find something else. And don’t even mention me showing my own work,” I warn her.

  She closes her mouth and narrows her eyes. “Well, you need to do something,” she argues. “Why not put your teaching degree to some use?”

  “Teaching?” I repeat.

  To be honest, the thought hadn’t even entered my head. Before finding out I was pregnant with Tilly, I’d been in my final year of a teaching degree, specializing in Arts. I’d managed to finish it before she was born, but then all my attention had gone to raising Tilly. After Aiden’s accident, I’d needed work fast, and the job at the gallery had fallen into my lap.

  “Look into it,” she urges. “At most you might need a refresher course, but you’ve done all the hard work.”

  “Okay, I will,” I say. It would work well, fitting in with Tilly’s schedule. I feel stupid that it’s something I hadn’t considered before. “I saw Heather yesterday when I went to visit Aiden,” I say, changing the subject. Ellie knows all about my issues with Aiden’s parents. Her face falls into a frown. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

  “Don’t let her get to you, Kee. Whatever she said, ignore it.”

  “She didn’t really say anything, other than dropping a few hints that I don’t spend enough time focusing on her son.”

  “Because you’ve got a daughter and a life that needs to move forward,” Ellie growls in my defense. “I’m so sick of her making you feel bad, Kee. That stupid woman needs a slap in the face.”

  “I just feel so guilty,” I admit. “You’re right. My life is moving on whether I like it or not, but it’s so hard to see him like that. And I think and do things that make me feel like I’m a horrible person.”

  “Like what?” she challenges.

  “Like today when I called the mechanic. He flirted with me and I liked it,” I mumble.

  “Kee, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s been three years, hon. How long are you expected to put everything on hold?” She hesitates before adding, “Would Aiden want that?”

  No. We’d had conversations before about shit like this. I know he’d want me to move on, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

  “It’s hard because he’s still here. I see him lying in that bed and I imagine how different our life would’ve been—”

  “You can’t do that, Kee,” Elli cuts in, her eyes full of concern. “And you need to stop blaming yourself for him going to work that day. The Aiden you fell in love with is gone. He died the day of that accident. You’re sticking by him out of guilt and what you feel like you owe to him. But he wouldn’t want that. You know he wouldn’t want that.”

  “I know,” I say, my voice quiet. “I just don’t know how to move on. I don’t know if I can.”

  “You need to. For Tilly’s sake and your own, you need to.”

  I pick up Tilly from school. She jumps into the car, looking happier than she has in days. I wait until she’s buckled up and then start the car. She turns to me, a big grin on her face.

  “Someone’s in a good mood,” I tease her, and she giggles.

  “’Cause it’s Monday and schools over,” she explains. “And ’cause I get to see Gran and Pops.”

  “You sure you’ve been good enough?” I say, my mouth tugging into a smile.

  “I have, Mommy,” she insists, her eyes wide. “And I made Gran a card in class.” She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a drawing.

  I have no idea what it’s supposed to be, but I drop my mouth open and gasp. “Till, she’ll love it. You’re such a talented little girl, aren’t you?”

  She giggles and places the card in her lap. I listen to her sing to herself as we drive through the backstreets toward Heather and Jim’s house. I love how excited she is to see Aiden’s parents, and I’d never interfere with that, but I can’t help but ponder over how our perceptions of the afternoons we go to visit her grandparents are so different.

  For her, it’s a treat that she looks forward to all week. For me, it’s a punishment worse than hell. Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but the anxiety I feel about seeing Heather usually begins three days before and peaks when I pick Tilly up from school. It’s always the same story: while they adore Tilly, I get inundated with questions and accusations on how I’m raising my daughter. Nothing I do is ever good enough. We haven’t gotten along since the accident.

  But, they dote on Tilly and seeing them gives her some sort of connection to her dad that I can’t offer her. I love nothing more than seeing Tilly happy.

  At least tonight we weren’t staying for dinner because they have a function to attend.

  That’s a small win for me.

  We pull up in the driveway of their sprawling property. I turn off the ignition, laughing as Tilly jumps up and down in the seat next to me. The second I open my door, she’s out of the car and halfway up the path to the front door. I rush to catch up with her, wrapping my arms around her on the top step.

  “You little monkey,” I say.

  She squeals as I tickle her, jumping around in my arms.

  Heather opens the door and Tilly’s face lights up.

  “Gran!” She throws her arms around Heather, who laughs and hugs her back.

  “There’s my little princess. Look how tall you’re getting! You’ll be taller than your pop soon,” she exclaims.

  I snort. Unlikely, considering Jim towers to about six-four. My snort reminds her of my presence. She gives me a tight smile.

  “Hello, Kiara.”

  When her attention is back on Tilly, I follow them inside, closing the door behind me. While Tilly is occupied with an array of new toys, I sit down in the living room in one of the oversized plush leather chairs. Heather brings in some coffee and cake. I help myself to a slice and thank her for the coffee.

  “She loves her new toys,” I comment in an effort to make conversation.

  “Yes, I hate to see the poor thing missing out,” Heather replies, lifting her cup to her mouth. My grip on my own cup tightens as I try not to react to what I’m sure is another dig at my lack of financial security.

  “Have you thought about taking her in to see Aiden?” She asks the question so innocently that it makes me want to scream. She knows very well that won’t be happening and she also knows damn well why.

  “I’ve told you before, she doesn’t cope seeing him like that,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “If it’s going to harm her, I refuse to do it.”

  “She’s probably scared because
she never sees him,” Heather presses. “If she saw him more, maybe she’d get used to the way he is.”

  The way he is?

  “She saw him for months every week and things got progressively worse,” I point out. “I’m sorry, but until she’s ready…” I shrug, not sure what else I can say.

  Tilly was seeing Aiden regularly up until she was four because I thought forcing her to visit him was the best thing for her. She went from being a happy, free spirited little girl to an angry, resentful shell of her former self. The nightmares were the worst, where she’d wake up screaming about Aiden. After countless visits with psychologists and doctors, we decided it was best for her to not force her to see Aiden.

  Heather excuses herself, mumbling something about spending time with Tilly. I sit there, my head resting against my hand, glad for a moment of peace. Heather is hard work. Every week, we go over the same things. She just doesn’t give up.

  I watch through the window as Tilly plays with a hot pink Frisbee while Heather waters the garden. When it comes time to leave, I’m relieved. Maybe what I need to do is give her and Till more space together. I happily leave Tilly at Ellie’s, why not at her Gran’s too? Maybe that will get Heather of my back for a few minutes.

  The fact that my own parents live s far away and travel so much means communication with them is limited. She loves speaking to Nan and Gramps, but the conversations are few and far between. Take now, for example, my parents are a third of the way into a three-month cruise around the Mediterranean.

  As we’re leaving, I turn back to Heather.

  “Would you like to have Tilly stay over sometime?” I suggest. “She can come over after school on a Friday and I can pick her up on the Saturday.”

  “I’d love that,” Heather says, her face lighting up. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sure she’d enjoy it as much as you,” I smile.

  ***

  My phone rings the second I exit Tilly’s room. Ellie’s name flashes on the screen as I curse myself for not putting it on silent. Pressing answer, I close the door and then tiptoe down the hallway to the living room.

  “Sorry, I just put Till to bed,” I say, yawning.

  “You sound tired,” she observes. “I won’t keep you, I just want to know if you want to go out for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Sure. Who’s going to look after the kids?” I ask, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I’m so tired I can barely manage standing as I make my way down to my bedroom.

  “Grant can,” Ellie replies.

  I let out a giggle, the image of Grant trying to wrangle Tilly and Cassie into bed flashing through my mind. “Okay, just let me know where and when. Nowhere too expensive, though, considering I’m now unemployed,” I add, my tone dry.

  “My treat, okay? Gotta go, love you, see you tomorrow.” She hangs up before I can protest.

  I drop my phone on the night table and undress. I don’t bother with my usual pajamas, jumping under the covers instead. As I snuggle into the blankets trying to warm myself, I think about how lucky I am to have Ellie and Grant. I swear they think about me more than they do themselves.

  Sighing, I close my eyes, no longer fighting to keep them open.

  The urge to sleep is too strong to resist.

  Chapter Four

  Kiara

  It’s Tuesday evening, and as I walk into the restaurant Ellie has chosen, I’m a little surprised by how nice it is. It’s not her usual style—small tables lit by candles are spaced around the room, the centerpiece a crackling fire that appears to be just for show, which is good considering how warm it is outside.

  “Hi,” I say, smiling at the waiter who has approached me. “A reservation for Ellie Black?”

  “Two people? Certainly, right this way.”

  He leads me to a table in the far corner of the room, pulling the chair out for me. I sit down, shocked that I’m somewhere before she is, for once.

  “Thanks,” I say, smiling at the waiter.

  He nods and then disappears, leaving me alone to take in the menu that is in front of me.

  “You must be Kiara?”

  I look up, shocked by the strong, masculine voice addressing me. I nod, slightly confused as to who this guy is. I glance around, wondering if maybe by some weird coincidence there’s another Kiara waiting for this tall, very attractive, very hot man.

  “Great. Sorry I’m running late.” He sits down opposite me and runs a hand through his dark, slightly curly hair. I glance around again, my face heating up.

  “Uh, you look kind of confused. You are Kiara, right? Kiara Drummond?”

  “I am,” I reply. I realize I’m staring at his sexy, deep blue eyes and look away. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Max. Grant’s friend?” he says. He shifts awkwardly in his seat as he waits for me to respond. That’s when it clicks.

  I’m going to fucking kill her.

  This is a date. Ellie has set me up on some stupid blind date. My hands clench into fists in my lap as I try and figure a way out of this without embarrassing this guy. What the hell was she thinking? She’d have to realize that I’d never go for this in a million years.

  “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem thrilled to be here,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. His kind eyes look intrigued. He’s probably wondering why the hell I’m on a date I don’t want to be on.

  “I’m sorry, it’s not you,” I sigh, covering my face with my hands. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, but I thought I was meeting my sister, Ellie, for dinner.”

  His face drops as he gets what I’m saying. “Right. So you had no idea that this was…” He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. “I can go if you like,” he offers.

  I sigh, feeling bad for the poor guy. “We’re both here now. We might as well eat. I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea . . .”

  “Okay, well, you’ve definitely set me straight,” he laughs, his deep blue eyes sparkling. “How about a drink?” he asks, motioning toward my empty glass.

  I nod and he waves over the waiter.

  “I’ll have a glass of red and my friend will have…?”

  “White,” I smile. “Preferably dry.”

  The waiter smiles and leaves us alone. My heart begins to thump louder as I struggle to think of something to say. Even if I were ready to date, I’d avoid it because of this, the awkward silence. I don’t handle male attention well. Even when Aiden started showing interest in me back in high school, I was shy and tongue-tied around him. But he eventually wore me down with his silly sense of humor and his ability to make me laugh.

  “So, let’s just call this two friends having dinner, huh?” he gives me a wink and I immediately relax. “Tell me something random about yourself.”

  “Random?” I repeat, smiling. “God, okay. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had a five-year-old, I’d probably never get up before noon.”

  “Me too,” he grins. “Well, minus the five-year-old part. And the fact that I’d probably lose my job.”

  “What do you do?” I ask, curious.

  “Nope, none of the usual first date getting-to-know-each-other shit happening here,” he says, his voice firm. “This isn’t a date, remember? Horror movies or romance?”

  “Horror,” I grin. It’s been less than fifteen minutes, but I feel like I’ve known this guy forever. “Mexican or Chinese?”

  “Both? Can I do that?” he asks. “Though if you held a gun to my head and forced me to choose, it would be Chinese.” He narrows his eyes, his expression making me giggle. “Favorite color?”

  “Blue,” I say. Like your eyes.

  I shake my head, no idea where that thought came from. I study my menu, the connection between us broken by my own stupid thoughts. When the waitress approaches us to take our orders I almost jump up and kiss her, the interruption a perfectly timed distraction.

  “I’ll have the fish ragout,” I say, setting my menu down.

  “And I’ll go
with the grilled steak and mushroom medley.” Max hands his menu back to the waitress and I do the same.

  She smiles and leaves us alone again.

  “So, how do you know Grant?” he asks, his voice casual.

  “He’s married to my sister,” I remind him, giggling.

  His face reddens and I laugh. “Shit, I knew that. Sorry,” he says with a wry grin. “I’m trying my best to keep this light and fun and not the slightest bit uncomfortable.” He makes a face. “Though if I told you about some of the ‘dates’ Grant has set me up on over the years, you’d see this is nothing.”

  “Oh, you have to tell me now,” I say, leaning forward. “I love disaster romance stories.”

  “Then I’m your guy,” he says, slapping his chest. He sits back in his chair, a crooked smile on his face. “God, where do I even start? One woman left me halfway through a date to sleep with some other dude she’d met online…in the bathrooms at the restaurant I’d reserved for us.”

  “No,” I laugh, “you’re kidding me. How did you even find out?” I ask.

  “When I went into the men’s room and found them going at. She didn’t even have the decency to apologize.” He shakes his head. “The sad part is that was one of Grant’s set ups. Hell, most of the worst ones were Grant’s doing.” He smiles, his eyes twinkling. “I’m actually kind of impressed at how normal you seem.”

  “Thanks, I think,” I giggle. “I’m not sure if I’m flattered or insulted to be one of Grant’s set ups. Remind me never to go to him for dating advice.”

  He laughs and reaches for his drink, his eyes not leaving mine. I’m having fun and I love how he makes me laugh, but I’m still worried that he hasn’t gotten the message. I’m in no way ready for a relationship, no matter how sexy and charming this guy is.

  We finish our meal, and I check the time on my phone. Wow. We’ve been here nearly three hours. I’m shocked at how quickly time has passed. When the waitress places our bill on the table, I pull out my credit card.