Fault Lines

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Fault Lines Page 21

by Rebecca Shea


  He listens intently as I describe collaborative workspaces, individualized offices, and small business workstations that anyone in the community can rent for a minimal fee. This allows me a place to have my office for teaching while also providing a much-needed place where students or other members of the community can utilize a desk or meeting room without ongoing rental commitments. In addition, I envision satellite classrooms for a local community college and community meetings all having a place for the residents of Crescent Ridge .

  As Brian, the foreman, points out a corner in the building that’ll work better for conference room space, the front door swings opens with a large squeak and Cole steps inside, closing the door behind him. He watches us from a distance, however he won't offer his thoughts on this space as he wants it to be mine. Every decision about this building and renovation, he wants me to make—from the design, to the decorating, even the marketing. Even though I've asked him a million times for advice, he wants me to own it all .

  "Hey, babe!" I call out to him and he smiles, leaning up against the door. He waits patiently while Brian and I finalize our walkthrough and Brian makes notes on paper before wrapping up our meeting. I collect my purse from the corner while Cole sees Brian out with a handshake .

  "So how'd it go?" he asks, meeting me in the center of the vacant space .

  "Awesome. He's really brilliant, ya' know. So smart and has a good vision for my ideas ."

  Cole nods. "He's phenomenal. His entire crew has transformed this town." He reaches out and pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. "When did he think they'd have the space complete?" He nuzzles himself into my neck and presses his lips to that spot right behind my ear that drives me crazy .

  I catch my breath and sink into his touch. "Once the plans are drawn up and permits approved, he thought no more than twelve weeks ."

  Pulling away, he looks at the space without releasing me. "Sounds about right. You both on the same page?" He looks at me with concern, his way of offering help. Making sure I'm happy with Brian .

  "Yep. He really brought my vision to life ."

  "Good, good." He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. "Hopefully the plans and permits won't take too long. Until then, the office at the house is yours for your classes. Anything you need, just say the word ."

  I've basically moved into Cole's house. This gives my mom more space in the house for the physical and occupational therapy she's receiving. Her therapists visit a couple of times a week and there is equipment all over the house. She's making great progress and, since I'll be just across the street, it made sense to move in with Cole .

  I press a quick kiss to his lips and thank him .

  "Are you done for the day? Because I'd like to steal you for the afternoon." He grins slyly at me. That's code for he wants to spend the afternoon in bed with no clothes on .

  I let out a happy sigh. "I am done for the day, Mr. Ryan. What did you have in store for us ?"

  He taps his finger on my nose. "You're just going to have to wait and see. But first, we're getting lunch. You're going to need your energy." He pulls me toward the door and laughs. I swear, this man is trying to kill me with his sex Olympics .

  He holds my hand all the way down the street until we get to The Fault Line Bar and Grill. Inside we settle into a corner booth and enjoy all of our favorite appetizers. I chew on a fried pickle as I lean into Cole and rest my shoulder up against him. We've come a long way in the last few weeks. Uncertainty loomed over us due to both of our choices in the past, but we've been able to come out of the fire stronger than we've ever been before .

  "Ashley called," I casually mention as I take a sip of my iced tea .

  "Oh, yeah?" He glances at me out of the corner of his eye .

  "She wants us to visit." I squeeze the lemon wedge that was resting on the rim of my glass into the tea. "She said her parents would love to meet you ."

  He shifts in the booth and lets out a small sigh .

  "Honestly, I think it's so she can meet you." I let out a small laugh .

  "I just don’t want to disrupt Libby's routine," he starts before I hold up my hand, stopping him .

  "This isn't about meeting Libby. Libby wouldn't even know we're there. It's just so you can meet Joe and Anne. And you'd get to see Libby, but not meet her. Libby already knows she's adopted. When and if she ever asks about her birth parents, then they'll tell her and we can meet her at that time. This is just an opportunity for you see her — "

  He cuts me off. "From a distance, right ?"

  I nod my head. "Yeah. No interaction. That'd be confusing to her ."

  He nods his head in agreement, seemingly relieved .

  "But only if you're comfortable,” I add. “I think it would be great for you to meet Joe and Anne, though. I think you'll understand how they made this decision much easier for me ."

  He exhales loudly. "I don't know if I'm ready — "

  I swallow the lump in my throat. "Then we won't go. I just want you to know that anytime you are ready, they're willing to talk to you ."

  "You've had access to her all this time—" he says .

  "No, Cole, I haven't. I've had pictures of her, and I get updates through Ash about her—but for the sake of normalcy for their family, and for me, I've kept my distance. Everyone felt like that was the best approach ."

  We’re both silent for a moment .

  "But, Cole…" I choke down the growing lump in my throat. "She's happy, and healthy, and the last thing I want to do is disrupt her life. I know where she's at, and I know she's safe and loved and so my love for her has been ensuring that her life stays as normal as possible, which means I've had to let her go. Cole, I've had a lot of time to deal with all of the emotions that came with this decision. This was a very difficult decision for me, but I've had the time to work through it." I pause and take a deep breath to still my emotions. "I gave birth to her. She'll always be our biological daughter—but she's also Joe and Anne’s daughter. They're the ones who raised her. They deserve that normalcy and no disruptions from us ."

  Cole traces a wood knot on the table with his forefinger and nods his head slowly. "How many times have you seen her?" he asks, his voice low .

  "Outside of pictures or on social media, just once." My voice trails off when I remember driving to Malibu that day. It was the only day I ever took a day off work. I had just started working at Ted's office…I didn't tell Ted where I was going and no one knew where I was. It felt so good to just disappear, to see my daughter and have this private moment to myself .

  "It was about six years ago," I begin. My heart races as I remember seeing her in the flesh. Her little round face with bright pink cheeks. The experience was beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. I knew the second my eyes landed on her she was mine. Her dark hair and bright blue eyes spoke to me and my heart—a connection you can't deny .

  Shaking off the memory, I continue. "I drove to Malibu to see her ballet recital. She was little, just about four years old. Anne had mentioned in an email that Libby had started ballet class and that her first recital was the weekend before Christmas. They were doing The Nutcracker ."

  Cole listens intently while I tell him my story. "It sounds a little creepy now, but she gave me just enough information to do some investigating. The Internet is an amazing tool. I found the dance studio online and their website told me where the recital was. I bought a ticket online and picked the last row in a corner where no one would see me ."

  I take another deep breath as those old feelings surface. I wonder if this is what Cole might be feeling. The intense need to see her coupled with the actual fear of seeing her. Emotions are a crazy th
ing. One second you're just needing to see someone, get a glimpse of their life, and the next minute you're doubled over in grief and despair .

  "I didn't go there to meet her. I just felt a maternal need in that moment to see her." I close my eyes and remember the memory of seeing her for the first time since I gave her away .

  I squeeze the ticket in my fingers and walk into the auditorium and I see the lights are still on. I waited in the parking lot until the last minute in hopes of sneaking in when it was dark, hoping not to be seen by anyone. An older gentleman in an usher’s vest takes my ticket and guides me over to the last row. I slide into the aisle seat in the far corner, slinking down as I shrug off my coat .

  My hands tremble as I lay my jacket neatly across my lap and the lights begin to fall. I use the light from my phone to read the program, with each recital number listing the class name and dancer’s name. My eyes stop at Elizabeth White. Libby. I see her name listed in the beginning ballet number, which is the third performance .

  The opening number seems to last forever as my heart races in anticipation of seeing her. The lights stay dark between each performance as one group shuffles off the stage and the other takes their positions. I wipe my hands on my skirt when I realize they are drenched in sweat. The second performance is a solo, a teenage girl, tall and lean, floating around the stage on pointe shoes. She's graceful and everyone claps wildly for her when she finishes .

  I sit up straighter, feeling my throat tighten as the lights slowly come up. The stage is covered in a soft amber light as the little girls take their positions. There are ten girls, but it's the front row, far left, where I see Libby .

  Her dark hair is pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head and I can see her striking blue eyes from the back of the auditorium. Her chubby cheeks are pink and a huge smile is plastered to her face .

  She stands in position, but her eyes wander until she finds Joe and Anne in the second row, straight in front of me. Anne has her arm laced through Joe’s, who has a small handheld video camera in the other hand, recording Libby .

  She gives them a little wave before promptly lifting her arms above her head and holding her position. Libby glides across the floor, and I know I hold my breath the entire time she dances. I take in every detail of her, from her fair skin to her long legs. When the lights fall, I stay seated, wiping tears from my cheeks .

  My daughter .

  I choke back a sob and try to gain my composure .

  However, in this moment, a sense of peace takes over me—knowing that I made the right decision, that she is living a life she deserves with a family that can give it to her. Neither Cole nor I were ready to raise a child, we were barely managing to take care of ourselves. I'm just barely starting my own life and she deserves the time that the Whites can devote to her .

  The lights fall and she disappears behind the curtain as I burn the memory of her sweet face into my mind and I make a quick exit to avoid being seen by the Whites. I needed this moment tonight, to know she was okay, to know that she was happy, and to allow me to heal .

  My heart was never the same when I handed her over—and tonight was the first step in healing those wounds. Sure I saw pictures and I got updates, but seeing her in the flesh was what cemented everything I've been told or seen from a distance .

  C ole stares past me at the wall. I can't tell if he's angry, hurt, or just trying to keep it together. "What was it like…seeing her ?"

  I smile and take a deep breath. "It was everything." I pause. "That's why when you're ready, you should do it ."

  He just nods his head slowly. "Someday," he says quietly and I reach my hand out and cover his .

  "Whenever you're ready ."

  * * *

  A fter lunch Cole drives me across town and parks in the parking lot of the only elementary school in Crescent Ridge .

  "What are we doing here?" I ask as I look around. I remember the bus dropping me here every day. Nothing seems to have changed. The windows are the same, and the red brick is beginning to fade with age .

  "See that over there?" Cole points to an empty dirt lot .

  "There's nothing to see," I remark, squinting my eyes in hopes of seeing something I'm missing .

  "What happened to your creative vision?" Cole smirks at me. "That right there is the future home of a YMCA ."

  "What?" I snap my head back and look at the lot again .

  "Yep. We've been working on getting one for three years. We built the business case and met all of their prerequisites. We got approval last week. I didn't say anything right away because I wanted to be sure," he says proudly .

  "Cole!" I bounce up and down in the seat of his Jeep. "How the hell do you do it all ?"

  He amazes me. Years ago, all I thought Cole's life would be was running his dad's auto shop. Instead, he's transformed that business and built so many other businesses from his willingness to never give up. He never gives up on anything he sets his mind to .

  He sighs with satisfaction. "When I want something bad enough, I won't let anything get in my way." He turns those sparkling blue eyes to me, and I see the meaning in them .

  "I'm so proud of you." I sit back in the seat as tears sting my eyes with pride .

  After a minute, he throws the Jeep in drive and heads back toward the other side of town. "I've got one more thing to show you," he says as he rolls up to the hidden trailhead that leads to the fault line .

  "At the fault line?" I ask as I hop down out of the Jeep .

  "Yep." He grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine. He maneuvers the trail with ease, pushing branches out of the way for me as we forge our way deeper through the woods and closer to the edge of the valley .

  When we pass that last set of trees and step into the clearing that appears before the fault line, Cole drops to a knee .

  "Frankie," he says my name, his voice shaking. "Everything began for us at the fault line. We were here the first time I knew I loved you. Our first kiss happened here—everything good about my life with you happened here ."

  My entire body trembles as he pulls a velvet box from the front pocket of his jeans .

  "Marry me." He flips the box open and there sits a huge cushion-cut diamond flanked by smaller diamonds .

  My heart leaps in my chest, not because of the stunning ring, but because this is what it feels like to know I'm about to say yes to spending the rest of my life with the only man I've ever really loved .

  Tears spill from my eyes and I drop to my knees in front of him .

  "Please say yes," he begs .

  I nod my head frantically. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you ."

  With a huge grin, Cole slides the ring on my finger before pulling me into his arms. It's here, the only place I've ever felt at home—safe in Cole's arms .

  Epilogue

  Nine Months Later

  H er waist-length, dark brown hair whips around in the breeze and her feet stumble through the sand as she runs toward the ocean. I’m sitting a hundred yards away, watching her. Just far enough to not look creepy, but close enough to hear her squeals and laughter as Joe and Anne White playfully chase her .

  She does flips and cartwheels, a bellowing laugh erupting at the end of her flipping, and a lump grows in my throat, making it hard to swallow. Tears sting the back of my eyes as I see my daughter double over in laughter as Joe tackles her into the sand and tickles her stomach. She's just about the age Frankie was when I met her—and she is the spitting image of Frankie .

  I hear light voices approach from behind me as Frankie plops down next to me in the sand, Ashley sitting on the other side of me .

  "You okay?" Frankie asks, placing her hand on my forearm .

  I swallow hard, trying to push the lump down, but I can't
. I just focus on Libby—my daughter .

  "She's happy," Ashley says quietly and I nod my head .

  She is happy. I can tell Joe and Anne have given her a good life. A life that I'm not sure I could’ve ever given her—but I would’ve liked to have tried .

  "My parents are totally open with her about the adoption. Anytime you want to meet her or she wants to meet you, they'll make it happen." Ashley is so sincere, and I appreciate it .

  "She's still so young," I choke out and clear my throat. "I think it would be confusing for her right now, but someday …"

  Frankie laces her fingers through mine and rests her head on my shoulder .

  Ashley pushes herself up. "I'm going to go say hi to my parents. I'll see you guys at dinner tonight. Reservations are at seven. Don't be late ."

  Ashley jogs through the sand, down the beach toward Joe, Anne, and Libby, and Libby runs to her when she sees her approach. Frankie swipes tears from under her eyes, and we sit in silence, watching our daughter from afar with her family. A great family .

  For the rest of my life, I'll regret my actions that set off a series of events that damn near destroyed me. But as I watch my daughter laugh and smile, I know she's happy and that brings me some peace from the past .

  "She looks so much like you did at that age," I remark, squeezing Frankie's hand. "It's like I'm looking at my past ."

  Frankie digs her toes further into the sand and tips her head back, allowing the sun to reach her face. I lay back in the sand and Frankie rests her head against my shoulder. Contentment falls over me as the woman I love lies wrapped in my arms on a sunny beach with the sounds of Libby's laughter blanketing us .

 

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