“What happened to Ellen?” I ask, inching closer. “Is she okay?”
Christopher’s sobs deepen, his eyes pressing harder as if the greater the physical pain, the faster the emotional pain escapes. “She’s fine. When April started having problems, Ellen shoved my face in it and got me clean. April is mostly fine but she still has a hard time following verbal instructions and stammers for words. She hates herself, says she feels stupid all the time. It’s my fault. I never should have gotten her started. It took me years to see that.”
My entire torso feels as if it has caved into my gut as the magnitude of his words and depth of his pain seep in. What I have heard is frightening, but I know the real man, and I promised long ago to never lose sight of him. “Just because you were involved in the catalyst does not mean you are responsible for the outcome. You are not responsible for April’s drug use just like Donovan wasn’t for Mom’s alcoholism.” Finally I touch my hand to Christopher’s cheek. “So where do we go from here?” I ask.
Christopher inches up his head, his eyes barely peering at me. “You mean, after all you’ve heard, you are still willing to stand by me?”
I dare to inch closer. It’s not Christopher I fear, but the pain I know this must be causing Donovan. “Christopher, in all the weeks you have treated me like shit, never once have I thought less of you because of the mistakes you made. Who you are is what is important to me, not your regrets.”
Donovan’s words snap my attention away. “I’ll talk to you later, Lil,” he says, curling up half of his lips and sounding defeated before his focus turns to Christopher. “Hang in there, man. Call me later, and I’ll set you up with help.”
A bitter smile crosses Donovan’s stony expression as he heads for the stairs. If I could split myself in two and hold on to Christopher while giving Donovan all he deserves, I’d do it without question.
Donovan’s steps stutter before he storms back to Christopher. Anger reverberates in his eyes. “Hurt her again, in any way, shape, or form, and I’m coming after you. You haven’t heard the last of me yet.” He begins to walk away, and then turns back in annoyed resignation. “Or maybe you have, if Anna has her way.”
Everything inside me clenches. There’s no way he’s getting away from me again. I’ve had it with Anna.
Chapter 50
Yesterday Donovan turned into the Incredible Hulk; today it is this Wonder Twin’s turn. Attempting to keep my fury in check, I resist the urge to pound down Anna’s door and opt to ring the bell. My head needs to maintain clarity, yet if my resolve lacks firmness, I’ll crumble over her suffering, thus negating my mission.
When the door flies open with Anna looking disgusted by my presence, my charming smile hopefully disguises both my desire to rip her a new one and the tears I fight over her suffering.
“Donovan’s not here,” she barks. “He took Sunshine to get her away from me.”
My eyes scan the porch as if in search of where the fly ball she just pitched landed. I try to smile off my annoyance while handing her an overstuffed shopping bag. “Actually, I’m here to see you. Eric went a little crazy and fixed a huge turkey last night. I thought you might like an escape from cooking dinner.”
“In other words, you are trying to save Donovan from my alternative medicine diet. Yeah, I know he told you. Come on in,” she says, dreading my acceptance of the invitation. Inside the well-lit house her illness becomes apparent. Without her make up, her face resembles a cadaverous raccoon—her illness making her skeletal.
Anna heads toward the kitchen, grumbling about being hospitable. I stop and tell it like it is. “I’m not staying where I am so clearly unwanted, but I am going to talk and you will listen.” Anna takes a strong stance with folded arms. Something tells me that even in her weakened state the woman has the ability to wipe the floor with my ass. Still I press on, as if fear is a foreign emotion. “I know of the ultimatum you gave Donovan. Make no mistake, if you move, you will go alone. If you persuade Donovan to leave with you, I will follow and lure him away. If you run off with Sunshine, I will hunt you down and take her, even if I can’t do it legally. Donovan and I will raise her as our own. I don’t care how much hiding we have to do.”
Anna snickers at me like I’m vermin. “You would never leave Christopher.”
Holding my ground, I force myself to relish in the falling face of the woman who thinks she has the upper hand, knowing it’s the only way to push me through this. “A few days ago that was true. Not now. Donovan must have left a few things out. Apparently Christopher has known about us for a long time, so don’t think that you have any power in the ability to tell him if Donovan leaves you. I’ve also discovered a world of information that has put my relationship with him hanging on a fraying thread, so I’ve nothing to lose. If you stay, you will continue to get professional psychiatric help along with medical treatment—a mastectomy, chemo—whatever it takes so you can raise your daughter like she needs. Optionally, you let me stand by you like a sister should.”
Anna’s expression softens; her annoyance tussled by my closing words.
“Anna, please let the people who love you help you.”
Her eyes abandon me, looking to nothing in particular as her brain searches for the proper vision. “I’d think you’d want me out of the way,” she mutters. “Aren’t situations like yours easiest after people die? All I am is a roadblock.”
“Goodbye, Anna,” I say, closing the door behind me.
Tough love sucks.
For hours Donovan and I have sat woven together on the sofa in his office, our eyes captivated by society’s potential stamp of approval that sits before us. My lips confess into his neck. “The bitter-sweet of it is, I have the life I always wanted. I love Christopher, and I want to be by his side to watch our children graduate college, get married, enjoy all their successes and love them through all of their mistakes. We know we can make it through this.”
Donovan places his head onto mine, caressing my crown with his cheek. “Even though Anna chooses not to see it, I do love her. I want to help her survive and rediscover that person she fought so hard to be. I know she’s in there. Whatever you said to her yesterday made her see it too.” He brings my eyes to his. His falling tear follows the path of my shattering heart. “Last chance. Do we face whatever truth lies in that envelope with the acceptance that we have already made our decision, or do we open it knowing we may want to backpedal?”
“Some things we are still in together,” I stammer.
“Yeah, let’s do this.” Donovan snatches the envelope. Our interlaced hands clutch as we walk to the corner of his office. My head buries into his chest as he flips the shredder’s on button, as if fearing this is the last time I will ever relish in the rhythm of his heart. “Count of three?” he says with a heavy breath of bravery.
“Yeah,” I barely utter.
“One,” he says boldly. For Anna and Sunshine.
“Two,” I add. For Graham, Antonia, and the sweetest man in the world.
“Three,” we force in unison.
Our quivering hands communally lower the sealed envelope, our dreams again ripped apart. Never will we let a stupid piece of paper dictate our lives. We were meant to be together, but everyone is hurting enough, and we won’t let a legality tempt us into taking them down further.
Suddenly I yank back the slightly chewed envelope and hand it to Donovan. “You have to open this!”
“What? We just spent two hours deciding not to.”
“Read it aloud,” I insist. “You’d better sit because no matter what it says your ass may hit the floor.”
Donovan ignores my advice and rips the letter open while giving me a grunt of disproval before reading aloud. “The first set of tests show that specimens A and B are full siblings and the children of the hair strand test, specimen E.” Donovan huffs, “Fine, so we’re siblings.” Then his face goes pale. “Wait, first set of tests?”
With a deep capture of breath, a slight dizziness s
wirls in my brain. My hands go clammy as they brace me against the desk. “Keep reading,” I say, feeling I’m about to hurl.
“The paternity test shows that specimen F is—is the child of specimen B. What paternity test?” Donovan asks in a panic.
The news crawls through my veins like poison. If ripping them out would bring relief from my disgust over our indiscretion, I would have already sliced my skin. “Antonia,” I mutter, gripping the desk tighter. “I would have told you sooner, but it was so unlikely, and I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that no matter how I sugar coat it, I cheated on Christopher.”
“Lily, this can’t possibly be right,” Donovan says, as if pleading. “We stopped almost before we started. That and her due date didn’t match.”
“I lied to you about her due date. Also, you had the same health teacher I did. Don’t you remember that sperm seeps out before the big event happens? Contrary to popular belief, two people can conceive a child without either having an orgasm.”
“That’s depressing. Wait, if you were unsure, then you and Christopher must have… Gah! Before or after me?”
“Donovan! I know men freak out when these things happen, but don’t make me feel like a whore!”
“I’m sorry. That was unforgivable.” His voice mirrors my pain. He draws me close, wrapping me tightly into his chest as if sheltering me from further hurt. “Do you plan to tell Christopher?”
“No. If those test results ever come to light the whole family will suffer. I can’t imagine hating myself more than I already do. How could I have ever done this to that sweet man?” My sobs feel acidic.
“Hey, look at me,” Donovan says gently. “Really, really look at me. We’re forgetting something incredibly important.” Raising my chin, he delicately brings his lips to mine, allowing them to linger. “We’ve been given an angel, yet we barely did anything to bring her to earth. Doesn’t that seem like God has bestowed his blessings? Lily, I promise that we will find our way. Some way, somehow you will be the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. Until then, please be there to catch me when I fall, because the drop may be a tall one.”
I bring my face closer so that my newly falling tears will find complacency with his. “We will make this work. I’m never leaving your side.”
“I’m going to do everything in my power to save Anna, but if she doesn't make it, I'll never remarry. I'll always be at the ready. Meanwhile, I’m going to keep drinking mint mochas and staking claim on your hair.”
“You want another lock of it?” I ask, somehow seeing endless hope for our future in the ocean of his eyes.
“You know it,” he says with glittering certainty.
“Trade you for another T-shirt.”
“Anything for you, Lily. All you ever have to do is ask.”
Chapter 51
Unwilling to lose sight of my fortune, my gaze is locked on Graham and Antonia playing catch in our yard. Their grandfather’s smile as he runs after an ill-thrown pitch is brighter than ever. At the kitchen table sits Christopher with his laptop, his fingers pressed into his temples while video chatting with Grace. After five weeks of tension, they seem at peace.
“Christopher, you were right in knowing I wouldn’t return without you,” Grace tells him. “You had been abandoned enough. In the end you did what you felt best for your family, just like I thought I did by not telling you about Eric. My prior actions cannot be changed. However, I can shape how I move forward in light of them.”
Christopher ends his call on a peaceful note, yet he’s still a little prickly as he joins me at the patio door. “Better now?” I ask.
“Not as well as could be. However, if you can still face me then I can, albeit barely.”
“So those two years remain closed?” I ask. “It’s really up to you.”
“As far as we are concerned, yes, but to me they are a never ending nightmare. So many bad memories have surfaced I can’t stand to pass a mirror.”
My hand glides through his locks, revealing a better view of his adorable face. “That’s unfortunate, because you are still beautiful in my eyes.”
“I don’t know how you could possibly say that,” he says, sounding heavy hearted.
As my eyes focus into his, my wedding vows ring stronger than ever, bringing forth drops of love from my eyes. “I will never lose sight of the amazing and sensitive man you are. I will be your strength when life fails you, laugh with you in good times and struggle with you in bad, and be the best that I can for you and our children, no matter where life takes us or what challenges lie ahead. I will always love you, and I will live in joy with you, for as long as God allows.”
Christopher’s eyes swim alongside mine. “I promise to be everything to you that you will allow, to stand by your side, to respect every nuance of you whether I understand it or not, and to share every bit of my being. You bring out the best in me, and I will remain faithfully by your side and by the sides of our children for all of my days.”
With a gentle kiss, he brings a smile to my lips. “Seems like we should have done that some place more formal,” he says.
“That reminds me, there is a formality we should address.”
“What’s that, luv?” he asks, pulling my head onto his shoulder.
“Eric leaves in under a week, yet can legally stay another month. Let’s work on a few surprises.”
Chapter 52
The sun’s golden rays beam into the kitchen on a lovely late-winter morning. Christopher dances in, returning from the grocery store with supplies for tonight’s party. His lack of grace makes for a cringe worthy version of the waltz as he swoops shopping bags onto the table then swirls me around the kitchen. He nearly spins me into the breakfast bar before continuing his little jig and pulling two bottles of champagne out of the bags.
“Wow. You look radiant! Are those bottles still full?” I ask.
Christopher waltzes to the patio door and calls for Eric before gliding back to kiss me. “Grab some glasses, will ya luv?”
“What’s all the commotion?” Eric asks.
With the pop of a cork, Christopher commences pouring. We follow his lead in raising a glass as he stands elongated, his free arm tucked behind him in a grand stand. “To Eric’s wisdom and the idiots who don’t follow it.”
“Sounds bloody cracking to me,” Eric says. “But what’s the point?”
“I just got a call from Tyler Lane,” Christopher bursts with pride.
“The guy from Spiral Lamb?” I search my brain to ask.
Christopher’s arms fly up as he turns into my favorite marionette. “Really, Lilyanna, I’m thankful you don’t have star lust, but this is a little much.” Christopher’s eyes return to Eric. “He felt incredibly bad about what happened with the tour, especially since we were so accommodating. He also said that Mike was released from his contract after sneaking items onto the merchandise tables, not only after repeatedly being instructed not to, but also without someone to sell them. Now the promoter is scrambling to find local acts to fill the remaining nights.”
“That’s cracking, Christopher,” Eric happily states. “I knew that yob would hash it!”
“It gets better,” Christopher adds. “The promoter was so pleased that we didn’t cause a single headache, we’ve been asked to open for St. Screwdriver’s Revenge when they hit the West Coast for the end of their tour. We can sell our merchandise and will receive a tiny per diem.”
“That is excellent!” Eric says, hugging Christopher. “I am so pound of you.”
“To Mancunian wisdom,” Christopher sings, sounding like a cheerleader.
“To Manc wisdom,” Eric adds.
“Hey, I feel left out. Can’t we say British wisdom so I can be included?”
“Are you English, Lilyanna?” Eric asks. “I thought Beckett was German?”
“Yes, but my father’s mom was English.”
“Really? From where ‘bout?”
Christopher lets out a groan.
�
�Islington. Near Liverpool.” Hopefully now I won’t get earache from two overtly proud soccer fans.
A gleam of camaraderie crosses Eric’s face. “Really? My family was originally from just up the road in Everton. They moved to Salford a month after I was born.”
Christopher is so busy rolling his eyes at my Scouser heritage that he remains oblivious. “Wow, Eric, that makes you a Scouser by birth.”
“Yes, I guess that is just one more thing that we have in common.”
Slowly Christopher's eyes widen as his mouth drops into an adorable little o. I stick my grubby fingers into his open wound and rip. “Well, since I’m one-quarter Scouser, and Christopher is half Scouser and half Manc, that makes the children—”
“Noooooo!!!!”
My nerves feel torn and frayed as I open the front door. With an ear-piercing squeal, Sunshine bursts through, anxious to show Antonia her new toy. In the threshold stands Anna, pale, weak, and smiling. This is the first time since last week’s ultimatum that we have laid eyes on each other. I risk bodily injury and give her a huge hug, completely catching her off guard. My face enlivens when the hug seems genuinely returned.
Donovan follows behind, carrying a medium-sized moving box and looking exhausted. “Oh, no,” I tease. “You’re not moving in. I’ll take your daughter for a few days, but you’re on your own.”
He forces a smile. “I thought I’d bring this over now so it’s one less thing to deal with Thursday night.” With a nod to the stairs he whispers, “Follow me.”
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