by Gia Riley
Laney might understand the concept of jail, but she wouldn’t understand why her daddy has to be in one. For her sake, I pray she never finds out what Connor did to her, and that it all could have been avoided had he stayed sober.
“Megan, are you okay?” Vanessa asks from the doorway with another bunch of flowers in her hand. She’s been spoiling Laney rotten, bringing her something new every day she visits.
My daughter takes one look at her aunt, and already she’s smiling so hard, holding her hands out for the latest bouquet.
I treasure Laney’s relationship with my sister. Vanessa’s exactly what my little girl needs, especially considering I’m still so screwed up about the loss of my impending divorce.
The little bit of revenge I thought I could weave through the paperwork has been stripped away along with my wife status. Now that divorce isn’t an option, I’m having a hell of a time figuring out my next move and where to direct my anger.
Maybe if I was on speaking terms with Connor, I’d track him down and lash him ten times over with all the hate that’s been building inside of me. But I haven’t had the guts to ask Vanessa where he’s at or what he’s facing. I’ve been too focused on my daughter—or maybe I’m just too scared to find out.
“Mommy, are we going home today?”
“I think so. As soon as Dr. Kristoff signs some papers.”
Laney’s chin quivers and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer to me. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you sad?”
She tries her best to hide her tears, just like I would. When she can’t keep them from falling, she grabs her doll and squeezes her hard. “I don’t like living in the hospital, it smells funny and it’s too hot. But Dr. Kristoff told me we could finish my Christmas list tonight.”
Laney was having trouble sleeping last night around the time Garrett came to check on us. She was her usual excited self as soon as she saw him, and his quick stop turned into the two of them huddled over a piece of paper with crayons in their hands. He helped her spell the words she had trouble sounding out, and all the ones she couldn’t spell at all. I’m pretty sure Garrett even talked her into a few toys he wanted to play with.
Watching him with her took my breath away. So much that when he left, my chest ached because there’s a very good chance her own father will never see that look on her face again. This year he won’t make a Christmas list or see her open presents on Christmas morning.
That thought leaves the sixteen-year-old girl who fell for Connor, devastated. But as a woman in her thirties, I just want him gone. I want to remove him from Laney’s life before he can do any more damage.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the best route for Laney, and ever since the key was given to me, I’ve been going back and forth about using it. No matter how many times I change my mind, I still come back to the fact that Garrett’s house is safe. It’s bigger than a hotel room, and the kind of place a little girl should recover in.
“What if I told you we were going to stay at Dr. Kristoff’s house for a little while, so he can help me take care of your legs until they get better? Would that be okay with you?”
Staying with him has nothing to do with her legs. I’m more than capable of caring for her, but I still use them as an excuse because it’s easier than telling her we can’t go back home because another woman has been sleeping in my bed.
Her face lights up at the thought of seeing Garrett every day. And then it falls just as fast. “What about Daddy? Will he be there?”
I tuck one of her curls behind her ear, wishing she was old enough to understand, yet thankful she’s still too young to carry the burden on her shoulders.
“Daddy will still have to get better, and he might have to do that in a different kind of hospital for a little while.”
The kind of hospital that strips you of your freedom and covers you in orange.
“Daddy won’t be mad at me, right?”
I take her tiny hand and rub my thumb over the back of her soft, bruised skin. She winces the slightest bit, but smiles when I kiss her fingertips.
“Daddy won’t ever be mad at you, Laney. No matter what, he always loves you. I want you to remember that.”
“I’ll never forget. I promise,” she says as she rests her head on her pillows.
Her rosy cheeks and compassionate soul completely melt me. But I keep my emotions to myself because there are only so many times I can cry in front of her before she gets suspicious or starts to blame herself.
I don’t have to worry about anyone being sad for long, because Laney’s faces lights up as our favorite doctor races into the room. This time, he’s wearing hot pink, her absolute favorite color.
“Not many guys can pull off pink, Garrett.”
He winks and with more confidence than he knows what to do with, says, “Real men wear pink, Megs.”
A single sentence out of his mouth and the entire mood flips. Once again, Garrett’s giving both of us exactly what we need when we need it the most.
Real men do wear pink. Connor never would have been caught dead in the color, and there’s a reason for that.
“Are you ready to go home Laney Lou?” Garrett asks her as she sits on the edge of her bed and untangles her doll’s hair.
She giggles at his nickname for her. “Mommy said we’re going to your house.”
Garrett turns and glances at me over his shoulder. “She did?”
He’s a little apprehensive and cautious, no doubt wondering how that conversation went and what reasons I gave Laney for the temporary move. And it is only temporary. Once Laney’s feeling better and things are worked out with Connor, I’ll find us a new place to live. Somewhere Laney will still love and still be safe. Somewhere we can call home again.
“I’m pretty excited about my new roommates. I hope you like cookies and candy canes, because I have lots of them in my kitchen.”
“They’re my favorite, Dr. Kristoff!” she tells him with so much excitement she’d be bouncing on her toes if she could get out of her bed. How I’m going to keep her in a wheelchair or on the couch, I have no idea. Laney has never been short on energy. “What about a tree? We need one of those. Unless you’re Jewish like my friend Robbie. He has candles instead.”
With a laugh, Garrett tells her, “I’m not Jewish, but I’m glad you and your mommy are coming to stay with me for a little while. It’ll make my Christmas a lot more fun.”
Laney tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowing slightly as she thinks. It’s her tell all that she’s about to ask something interesting. I brace myself for her worst.
“Will I have to call you Dr. Kristoff at your house? Or can I call you Garrett like Mommy does? Aunt Vanessa calls you, ‘Garrett the Hottie’,” she says as she covers her face and giggles. In her world, boys still have cooties. I hope it stays like that for a very long time.
Garrett raises a brow, like he might enjoy this nickname, and I suddenly wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. I really need to watch what I say around Laney. She’s like a sponge, soaking up every detail whether it’s intended for her little ears or not.
He saves me when he says, “If it’s okay with your mom, you can call me Garrett at home. Since we’re friends and all.”
“Mommy, can I?” Laney asks with so much hope, I could never tell her no.
“Yes. But still mind your manners. We’re guests. Okay?”
“Okay!”
Garrett stands up and tips his head toward the door. I follow him, wondering how we’re going to make it work at his house if we can’t even talk within earshot of Laney.
He leans against the wall with his iPad in hand. I feel small standing in front of him, waiting for him to speak and to stop staring at me like he wants to kiss me. “What?” I ask him.
“Nothing. It just feels like the last day of school. I’m about to have you under the same roof—I’m a little excited about that.”
“I’m surprised you still get excited for the l
ast day. You’ve had so many over the years, I figured you’d be bored of them by now.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s never been like this, Megs.”
While I’m just messing with him, joking about his years spent in school and his fancy degree, he mistakes my playfulness as sarcasm for something more—like other women.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Garrett.”
“I know,” he says. “But I want you to know there haven’t been many. I’ve been pretty focused on this whole doctor thing and all.”
“But you’ve still been in love before. You’re in your thirties.”
His watches as I lick my lips, the force of his gaze making me wonder what his feel like.
“I’ve been in love,” he says, cryptically, giving me no clues as to who she was or what happened with their relationship.
I’m so curious, I struggle to keep my questions to myself. As much as I want all the juicy details about where his heart’s been all these years, questions are too personal for the hospital, especially with my daughter on the other side of the wall.
“Okay, so Laney’s all set to go home?”
He glances at his iPad, tapping the screen before saying, “She is now. The nurse will bring her discharge papers in as soon as she can. And I’ll see you when I get home.”
“Do you work late?” I don’t know why I ask. It’s not like he has to be home to hang out with us or make sure we’re okay. I’m capable of finding my way around his kitchen and taking care of my little girl.
It’s not like I need a man to survive—even if the one in front of me is making it really hard not to want one for all kinds of other reasons. Dirty reasons.
“I won’t be too late. I should be home around dinner time.”
All of a sudden, butterflies attack my stomach. It’s the kind of nervous energy you carry around when you find out someone has a crush on you. It’s childish, youthful, and a reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve felt wanted or looked forward to a man coming home.
I press my hand against my abdomen, loving how alive my spirit is, yet regretting how long I’ve let myself live in a comfortable silence with my so-called husband.
The last time I felt the freedom of new possibilities, I was still a teenager, thanking my lucky stars Connor Campbell wanted to go on a date with me.
I spent all of my allowance on a new dress and shoes. I used my mom’s curling iron and made sure my hair was just the way he said he liked it. And when he pulled up in the driveway, I didn’t keep him waiting. He was leaning against the car with the passenger side door propped open and his arms crossed over his chest. His Henley stretched over every single one of his muscles, and I just about passed out on the concrete.
The closer I got to him, the more his intensity drew me in. From day one, all I wanted to do was please him—because if he was happy, then I was happy.
If I could go back in time and tell the sixteen-year-old me that loving myself was far more important than loving Connor, I would. I didn’t need validation that I was pretty enough or popular enough to be his. All I needed was to stand on my own two feet and believe in myself. That’s where my true happiness would be found.
But with Connor, I always saw so much more in him than I thought I deserved. My heart wanted forever despite the rest of me wanting to proceed with caution.
I didn’t like his arrogance back then, but I told myself that kind of confidence was sexy. Only it wasn’t confidence at all. It was his insecurity masked by doubt. And that makes him the most unattractive person I’ve ever met.
Megan
“MOMMY, CAN WE GO INSIDE? I’m cold,” Laney asks, as her teeth chatter. I’ve been so nervous to use the key in my hand, I forgot she’s sitting behind me in her wheelchair.
“I’m sorry, baby. We’re going inside now.”
Unlocking the front door to Garrett’s house, I feel like I’m intruding in a place I don’t belong. A house reveals a lot about a person and with Garrett’s favorite things and treasured possessions inside, it’s like getting a private glimpse inside his heart and soul.
The exterior is as nice as I would expect a surgeon’s house to be, two stories—a white façade with black shutters. On one corner of the house, there’s ivy creeping up the brick, giving it a fairytale feeling.
On the opposite side, there’s a shade tree that probably just got done shedding most of its leaves for the winter.
Splitting the yard up the middle, a brick pathway is lined with decorative shrubs, all pruned to match each other in size and shape.
I’ve driven by this house hundreds of times over the years, yet today’s the first day I truly looked at it, seeing it for more than the white house on the corner and more as Garrett’s little slice of heaven.
And the house suits him. It’s beautiful but not pretentious. Inviting but not overwhelming. It’s comfortable and warm, just like Garrett’s personality.
I expect the same inside, but as I help Laney push her wheelchair over the lip of the doorway, I’m hit with a blast of nostalgia as soon as my eyes settle on the crystal chandelier in the foyer.
Laney keeps her wheels rolling into the living room, but I take a minute to appreciate a piece so special, I can’t believe it’s hanging in Garrett’s home.
I always thought my grandmother’s chandelier was one of a kind, even a piece of treasure. Knowing how much it meant to her, and that she loved my grandfather more than life itself, I tried to buy it from her estate sale after she passed away. Before I could even bid, Connor stopped me, telling me it was too flashy and outdated to be hung in his house.
He couldn’t have been more wrong. The chandelier isn’t tacky, it’s a timeless reminder of the roaring twenties, the Great Depression, and a war that raged on for years, separating her from the man she loved. His battle wounds were the only reason he came home before VE Day, reuniting them under harrowing circumstances.
Once he was well enough to stand on his own two feet, he remarried his wife before he did anything else. His vows weren’t traditional; instead, he told her the truth. That the reminder of her warm apple pie and homemade hot chocolate kept him alive while he was freezing at the bottom of his fox hole, wondering when the next round of gunfire and explosions would take the lives of his brothers, and hopefully not him.
He cried as he explained to his sweet Evelyn that even though they were separated by an ocean and thousands of miles, her voice wrapped him in a calming hug whenever he was scared. She was his reason to live, and if that isn’t the kind of true love worthy of being hung from the foyer of any home, then I don’t know what is.
“This is so pretty! Look at the tree, Mommy!” Laney shouts from the living room.
After reminiscing, I turn the corner to see what all the fuss is about, spotting a Christmas tree so big, it had to cost a fortune. Garrett has tall ceilings, so this tree must be at least ten feet tall.
It’s perfection, but tears prick my eyes when I realize it’s only partially decorated. The bottom half doesn’t have a single decoration or light on any of the branches.
“Why didn’t he finish it?” Laney asks, curiously. “It’s missing a bunch of the pretty stuff.”
My throat swells with emotion as I try to answer her. I can’t believe he heard me tell Laney she could do the low parts, and I’d take the high ones. So, with shock and awe lacing my voice, I tell her, “I think he left it bare so you can decorate it, baby.”
Her smile stretches even wider, her eyes lighting up at the thought of getting to put her own personal touches on Garrett’s tree. I expect her to ask when she can start, but she surprises me when she takes a minute to appreciate his generosity, simply stating, “I really like him, Mommy. He’s the best.”
“He is pretty great, isn’t he?” Laney hasn’t beamed like this since the day she saw Garrett run into her hospital room with his cape. He melted both of our hearts that afternoon, and he’s still doing it—without being asked.
“Can I see my room no
w?” Laney asks, as she spins her wheelchair around. She’s doing so much better maneuvering it than I thought she would. While I wanted to cry when she was placed in the confining chair, her determination powered her through the lesson with the therapist in record time.
Since there’s no easy way to get her chair up the flight of stairs, I put the brakes on before I pick her up and carry her in my arms. “Am I hurting you, Laney?”
“No, I’m tough,” she says with squinted eyes and pouty lips, making me laugh.
I suck in a breath when she reaches out to run her fingers across the edge of a silver frame on the wall, almost knocking it off.
“How about we don’t touch anything that looks breakable or expensive. Okay?”
“Is everything in this house expensive—like Garrett’s name?”
This kid doesn’t forget anything. “It could be, Laney. So let’s be on the safe side just in case.”
“Got it,” she says with the kind of confidence I can trust. Even if she is only five.
“Do you think my room will have a little bed or a big one? I’ve never slept in a big bed before. What if I fall out?”
“With your legs casted, you’ll have to stay pretty still at night, just like in the hospital. But I’ll put pillows around you if you get nervous.”
I hate she has to wear these bright pink casts for weeks on end before she can even think about moving around again. The thought of her bones being shattered into pieces, needing surgery to make them heal, only adds fuel to my fire.
I thought I would have heard something from Connor by now—that I wouldn’t have to be the one to make the first move. Even people in jail get one phone call, but clearly I wasn’t high enough on his list to make the cut.
By the time we reach the first doorway, I’m more than ready to put Laney down, but it’s not a bedroom. I keep walking past the office and a bathroom before I find where I need to be.