Cross Your Heart (An Emerson Novel Book 2)

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Cross Your Heart (An Emerson Novel Book 2) Page 7

by K L Finalley


  For what felt like hours, Mallory sobbed and Jacqueline held her tight. She kissed the top of her clean hair. She rubbed her cool skin. Softly, she tried to reassure her. "I love you, too. It's all fine. There's nothing to be upset about. There's nothing to worry about. Everything's working out great. Don't cry, baby. Try to relax."

  After Mallory had emptied her tear ducts, she took quick breaths. She was almost panting. Jacqueline pulled the cover from her hoping it would help. In time, she began to calm. She caught her breath and wiped her eyes with her hands. She said, "I'm sorry."

  "For what?" Jacqueline asked as she drew the hairs from her face. Her eyes were swollen. The end of her nose was red. Her usual pale skin was flushed with color. Jacqueline cocked her head and marveled at how Mallory's pain had been painted on her face.

  "Freaking out," with bloated lips, Mallory breathed.

  "Don't worry about it," Jacqueline said as she kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry I don't think about how tough things are for you. I should've thought about how tough things are on you just being with me. I'll try to do better."

  "Jacqueline," Mallory cleared her voice. With Jacqueline's full attention, she continued, "I don't want you to think that you've done anything wrong."

  Holding her close, Jacqueline replied, "Clearly, I have."

  "Not really. I mean, I know this is all new to you. And, you're doing great. You really are. It's just that.... it’s just that..."

  "Just what?"

  "I don't know. There are too many things," and the tears flowed again.

  "Well, tell me the first thing that comes to your mind."

  Sniffling, she said, "Okay...okay...where are we going?"

  Jacqueline started to snicker, but stopped. She knew that that was the wrong response. Running her hands through her flattened hair, she said, "I don't know. I mean, I guess we're going as far as we want to go."

  "What does that mean?" Mallory looked confused. She'd asked the question that plagued her. She'd asked Jacqueline what everyone was asking her. She said, "The future. You know, a year from now. Do we have a future a year from now? What does a year from right now look like?"

  Jacqueline was scared to say all of the things that she had thought in the past five months. She didn't want to mention her long range plans. As frightened and as anxious as Mallory was, Jacqueline was as well. "A year from now things are still good. I don't know. I mean, things are good right now. And, I think we should just go with it. Let's go wherever we want to go. As far as we want to go. There's no reason not to." It was a good evasive answer. It was meaningless upon close inspection, but, in a moment filled with tears, Jacqueline knew it would work.

  "Yeah, I guess so." Mallory wiped her damp face on the sheets. Jacqueline stared at the wet spot her tears had left. "But, what about money?"

  That was unexpected. Jacqueline had never considered having this conversation, "Money?"

  "Yes, money. You know exactly what I make."

  "Yeah, I do, but that's only because I'm your boss. A fact that I'd rather not discuss at the moment."

  "But, I don't know what you make. I mean, I have an idea. And, I have an idea of what you made for all the years that you've been at the Sun, but it doesn't make sense. I mean, all of this," she swept her hand up into the air and around the room. "I can't figure this out."

  Defensive, Jacqueline recoiled, "Whaddaya think? I'm selling drugs."

  "No, honey. I just don't know. I've got questions you never address."

  "Actually, it sounds more like accusations." Jacqueline felt unnerved. She didn't want to talk about finances.

  Aware that this conversation was heading in the incorrect direction, Mallory said, "That's not at all what I mean. I love you. I want to be a part of your life, but you keep me out of so many things. I don't know your family or your friends. What do you tell all the people that you used to hang out with? What do you tell those girls who still text your phone? Why is it all such a secret?" And, her sobs returned.

  Letting down her guard, Jacqueline began to stroke her back, "Honey, you worry too much. I love you. You know all of the friends that matter to me. Those girls who text my phone are from my past and I block them as they text me. You know that. You know that none of them matter. As for my family, we aren't very close. That's got nothing to do with you. I'm here with you. I don't have any secrets from you. You've got a key to all the things that mean anything to me. You have access to everything." She stroked her back. "I think you're just exhausted. You need to try to rest. This'll make more sense in the morning. I promise." Jacqueline stopped rubbing her back and slid down in the bed, so that they could face one another. She gently kissed her lips and said, "I'm going to change my shirt and get your washcloth."

  Jacqueline removed her shirt and exchanged it for a dry one as she headed to the bathroom. After heating the water to a comfortable temperature, she dunked Mallory's washcloth and wrung it dry. She returned to Mallory's side of the bed and sat down. Gently, she wiped Mallory's face. For a moment, she sat there staring into her sea green eyes that were now marred by strands of red. She felt responsible for her unhappiness that Mallory was feeling. And, then, she became overcome with her own sadness. Fearful that she would become emotional as well, she smiled down at Mallory and lifted up from the bed to return the washcloth to the bathroom.

  As she slipped back into bed, the tablet vibrated. She knew that Noah had responded, but she thought against checking. Instead, she drew Mallory close and said, "Come here and let me hold you, so you can doze off." Having kissed once more, Mallory rested her head on Jacqueline's chest and tried to relax. Hoping to muffle any further sounds that may come from the tablet, Jacqueline turned the television on and surfed through the channels searching for any possible distraction.

  It was to no avail. Mallory heard the repeated buzz of the tablet, but she was too tired to fight again. There would be another day.

  Chapter 6

  "Mom, when are we meetin' Jax?" asked Zoe.

  "How many times have I told you that she isn't coming over?" Mallory had grown tired of answering the onslaught of questions. She left Jacqueline's penthouse after lunch and picked up Zoe from Abbie's house. Since then, she had listened to a barrage of questions and pleas about Jacqueline, the penthouse, dinner, and tomorrow. "I thought it might be nice if we went to our house and spent a night alone. Just me and you. You know, like old times." As she said these words, she was half-convincing Zoe and half-convincing herself. She looked up into her rearview mirror and saw her daughter's displeasure.

  Zoe's long, thin legs had reached the length necessary for them to comfortably fold over the back seat. She looked as if she had grown inches overnight. In a sunshine colored t-shirt and jean shorts, she sat in the backseat with her head rested on the palm of her hand. Her elbow was firmly planted on the arm rest and she stared outside. While Mallory was sure that she wasn't looking at anything, she was unaware that Zoe was mounting her offense.

  As Mallory drove towards their house, she continued to try to talk to her daughter. "How were things at Abbie's this time?"

  "Fine." The one word responses had begun.

  "No fights this time?"

  "No."

  "Who's birthday was it? One of her cousins?" Mallory looked into the rearview mirror again. She had hoped to make eye contact.

  "Yes." The car started to feel chilly.

  "Macy, right? It was Macy's birthday. How old is she now?"

  "Nine."

  Mallory was starting to seethe. She had done her best to be honest with her daughter. She had picked her up from her birthday sleepover. She had come inside and talked to her best friend's mother. She had taken her daughter for a much needed trim of her dirty blond hair. Against her better judgment, Mallory had agreed to frozen yogurt before dinner. But, now, it was time to head home. It was not time to head to Jacqueline's penthouse overlooking the Bay with a private elevator and a wraparound balcony. It was time for Mallory and Zoe to be at the place that
Mallory paid rent for them to reside. And, it was her decision to make without an interrogation from her daughter. "Zoe Rhiannon Russell! I have had enough of your sulking. I've tried to let you be upset, but this has gone on long enough. We are going home. It is not a punishment. This is our home."

  Zoe only responded with the folding of her arms. As Mallory's mother had wished when Mallory was pregnant, Zoe was, in fact, just like her. She was tough, but smart. She questioned everything and emerged with her own opinions. As the car inched into the driveway, Zoe collected the overnight bag that Jacqueline had bought her and opened the car door. While her mother was inside the cabin of the car removing her sunglasses and gathering her purse, Zoe slammed the car door in disgust. As she sprang to the front door of their house, she faintly heard the screams of a woman who had just had the car door slammed on her.

  Mallory exited the car and stalked to the front door. "I have had enough of you. When I open this door, I want you to go to your room."

  Zoe didn't respond. She had been sent exactly where she most wanted to be.

  When the doors opened, Zoe stomped away and Mallory collapsed into her loveseat. Enveloped by its pillows, she sighed and rubbed the ever-protruding vein that throbbed in her forehead. She looked around the small house that she had once loved. The place she had enjoyed decorating without the help or opinion of any other person. The place that she had loved felt wrong today. All of the contents were as she had left them on Friday morning when she headed off to work. Yet, something wasn't quite right. The light colored furniture mixed with the printed, overstuffed couch and loveseat made the room feel airy and inviting. It was the exact definition of a home that she had dreamed of living in. But, none of this mattered at that moment. At that moment, all of the decorations and furniture did not help how Mallory felt.

  Rather than moving to the couch that had a better view of the television, Mallory reached for the remote on the coffee table and brought the room to life. However, the first words uttered from the instrument that was supposed to bring her solace were: "Bases are loaded and Nelson doesn't look like he has got anything left. It'll be a miracle if he gets to finish this inning." Mallory leaned her head back against the couch and a tear rolled down her cheek. That was the moment that she knew that nothing was out of place. Rather, someone was missing.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Dinner was subdued. Zoe swirled the mini-raviolis on her plate without admonishment. Mallory finished all of her salad, but she had not left the table. She sat back against her chair as if she were physically exhausted.

  Finally, Zoe spoke, "Mom, you can tell me if you broke up with Jax. I'm old enough to understand."

  "What? No. I didn't break up with Jax."

  Zoe heaved her shoulders forward and thrust her hands in the air. "Then, what are we doing here all alone? What happened?"

  Mallory leaned forward placing her elbows around her salad plate. She spoke with her head rested in her hands. "Zoe, NOTHING happened. I just thought it would be nice to be like it was. I thought it would be nice for Jax to have some space."

  "Space?"

  "Time alone."

  "To do what?"

  "Whatever she wants to do without having to worry about you and I being there."

  "What'd she say that she wanted to do?"

  "Well, nothing. I didn't ask."

  Zoe stared at her mother. She moved her head from side to side hoping that someone else would appear who could better explain this. When she saw no one was there to help, she returned to her mother, "Will she be finished doing it tomorrow?"

  "What?"

  "Whatever it is that she needed to do will she be finished doing it tomorrow? Will we see her tomorrow?"

  "I don't know, honey. We'll see."

  Frustrated by her mother's lack of answers, she asked, "May I be excused?"

  For a moment, Mallory did not respond. She thought of how Jacqueline had changed their lives. They were eating in the dining room. Her daughter had asked if she could leave the table. These were things that they hadn't done before Jacqueline became a part of their life, but now, they felt very normal, very right. Realizing that her daughter's blue eyes were peering in her direction awaiting an answer, she said, "Yes, go take a bath." Without responding, Zoe placed the chair under the table, rinsed her bowl and glass, and placed them in the empty dishwasher. Mallory watched her from the table. She hoped that Zoe would take a bath and settle down for the night. She didn't have the energy to have any more discussions about her romantic life with her seven-year-old daughter.

  After Zoe had finished in the kitchen, Mallory cleaned up the little mess that they had made. Then, she headed off to her bedroom on the other side of the house. When she opened the door to her bedroom, she smiled at the sight of her wrought iron bed. She had been so pleased the day it was delivered that she rushed out to purchase a flowery duvet cover and down-filled pillows. She glanced around the room and admired the glider rocking chair that sat in the corner under a curved lamp. It was her reading spot. She fondly remembered all the evenings that Zoe had sat on the ottoman rocking in tandem with her begging to stay up just one more hour. This place was her design. It had been crafted by her. It was her place, but tonight it failed to give her the comfort she sought.

  As she went about searching for her remote, her phone sounded. Waiting on the television to turn on, she retrieved the phone only to see that she had missed two calls. One call was from Jacqueline and one call was from Paige. Also, there was a text from Jacqueline. It read:

  I hope you and Zoe are having a blast. I love and miss you both.

  Mallory felt worse. Jacqueline hadn't asked for time alone. On the contrary, she had planned to go with her to pick up Zoe. She thought that they were all going to get the haircut and go back to the house for a few nights. It was Mallory who decided to go home without her. Jacqueline had asked repeatedly if she had done something wrong, if she had said something wrong, but Mallory couldn't explain. Rather than try, she told Jacqueline that she thought that she should spend some time with her daughter to make certain that she was okay. She knew that Jacqueline would not refute her needing to do it. She knew that Jacqueline would do whatever Mallory thought was best for Zoe. But, Zoe was fine. She was better than fine. She had adapted to her mother having a black girlfriend. She enjoyed the time that she and Jacqueline spent together and the time the three shared.

  Feeling the rise of emotions in her chest, she placed her phone beside her on the bed and turned to face the television. And, there was baseball. Nelson had lost the lead. The runs had scored and he was no longer in the game. Instantly, she wanted to call Jacqueline; and, in forcing herself to not call, the emotions she fought capsized her. She began to cry. Feeling the tears fall down her face, she felt flush. She felt warm, almost feverish. She had not come here to cry. She had come home to get control of herself. So, she sprang from the bed and headed to the bathroom.

  ~~~~~~~~

  When Jacqueline first began watching Zoe in the evenings to allow Mallory to work late, she had noticed the inquisitive nature of the child. Rather than stifle it, she had allowed her to ask any question she had. In most cases, the questions were things that she had overheard adults discuss, but she did not quite understand. Jacqueline made great effort to explain both sides of the topic and give Zoe the range needed to discover her own opinion. These were the moments that Jacqueline enjoyed most. Zoe never hesitated to ask anything of her, and tonight would be no different.

  Zoe went to her desk and unplugged her tablet. She took it back to her bed. Sitting cross-legged and unbathed, she sent a text to Jacqueline's cellphone:

  Zoe:What are you doing? She thought that it might take a few minutes for Jacqueline to respond, but, there was no delay.

  Jacqueline responded:Watching the game

  Zoe:did you go with friends

  Jacqueline:No. I am at home. I am watching the game on the couch.

  Zoe:alone?

  Jacqueline:Yes. Just me. Then, J
acqueline sent a picture of herself sitting on the couch.

  Zoe:what're you doing with your space

  Jacqueline:My space? What do you mean?

  Zoe:mom said you needed space to do stuff alone.

  Jacqueline:Nope.

  Zoe:will I see you tomoro

  Jacqueline:It is spelled t-o-m-o-r-r-o-w. And, if you and your Mom don't have plans, I would love to see you tomorrow. I am lonely without you two.

  Zoe:I dont get it.

  Jacqueline:Get what?

  Zoe:if you are lonely, why did you need to be alone?

  Jacqueline: I don't need to be alone. Your mom wanted to spend time just the two of you. Did you have fun with her tonight?

  Zoe:no

  Jacqueline:No? Why not?

  Zoe:we used to be alone all the time.

  Jacqueline: Moms like to be alone with their kids sometimes. It's nice.

  Zoe stopped typing. With her tablet in her hands, she walked across the dark house to her mother's room. She knocked on the door and waited for her mother to welcome her inside. Before Mallory could ask what Zoe wanted, Zoe said, "If Jax didn't want alone time, then why did you make us leave?"

 

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