by Various
* * * *
Jordan had arrived home with only the light from the moon to keep him company. When he climbed the steps to the front door, he decided it would be easier to hate Chelsea. He could try anyway. The sight of her car still in the driveway let him know she hadn’t taken off. The front door closed with a soft click of the latch. “Chelsea?” he called out softly.
A sniffle came from the living room where he had left her. His heart skipped in his chest. She had waited for him.
The sight of her curled up on the loveseat stopped him in his tracks. Her head rested against her arm and her eyes were puffy. She had cried herself to sleep. He shouldn’t have run out, he thought as he took a few steps closer. Her beauty still amazed him. Chelsea had been cute as a teenager but now she couldn’t be considered anything less than beautiful. She had kept the freckles and dimples of her youth, but her hair had grown into a deep auburn color. She’d always loved to laugh.
How often did she smile now? Not enough, if at all.
He pushed a piece of silky hair out of her face. She gave a soft groan and rolled over to face the back of the loveseat.
Jordan went to the linen closet by the two guest rooms. He paused to look in the larger of the two rooms. It would be perfect for Elizabeth. He had to get her back, he thought as he grabbed a pillow and blanket from the closet. Back in the living room, he slipped the pillow under her head and spread the blanket over her. He kissed her on the forehead and realized he would never hate Chelsea.
* * * *
The smell of food tickled her nose. Her eyes drifted open and it all seemed like a dream. She really wasn’t in Jordan’s home, right? A radio played in another room with Jordan whistling along with the song. It wasn’t a dream, she really was in Jordan’s life again.
She rubbed her hands over her eyes as if to wake them further before sitting up to stretch her muscles. Sleeping on the couch all night sure had given her a crick in her neck, even though Jordan had given her a pillow and blanket at some point. She found her shoes sitting next to the couch. He’d taken those off as well. Slowly rising from the couch, she wondered what she should do next. Just leave? Maybe try to talk to Jordan some more?
She found a bathroom on the way to the kitchen. Definitely too perfect to be used on a regular basis. With the dark, perfectly folded hand towel on the rack, and brand new matching boat-shaped soaps next to the sink, it could only used for guests. A puff of scented air shot out of a small box attached to the wall as she washed her hands in the sink. A musky scent filled the bathroom. One thing for sure, Jordan’s house had class.
What would life have been like if she’d had Elizabeth in Wilson? She pictured a toddler running through the hallways, toys scattered all over the immaculate living room, and laughter over
the dinner table at night. As she passed the stair case, she tried to picture Elizabeth as she would be today, age ten, running downstairs to greet her daddy in a big hug when he got home from work.
Sadness boiled in her. She pushed the images from her mind as she walked through the kitchen door. In order to face Jordan, she needed a clear head and some rest.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” said Jordan as he walked over to the small kitchen table and set two plates down on placemats. “Breakfast is done. Hungry?”
“You didn’t have to.” She forced a smile but refused to look him in the eye.
“I wanted to,” Jordan said with a shrug.
“It smells great. What is it?” The thought of him making her breakfast touched her. Did he still care about her?
“Veggie frittata.”
She sat down and poured herself a cup of orange juice and dished some fresh fruit from a bowl. He took the chair across from her, neither looking at each other, but his shoulders seemed more relaxed while his frown smoothed out to reveal his flashy grin. After a few bites of her breakfast, she sat her fork down on the plate. She kneaded the tense muscles in her neck with her hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m a bit sore from sleeping on the couch. Thanks for taking my shoes off and covering me with the blanket.” She gave a hesitant smile.
“I should’ve woke you or carried you to the guest bedroom, but you looked so peaceful there. Was the blanket warm enough?” He plopped a chunk of pineapple into his mouth. “I keep the air conditioner set low in the summer.”
She nodded. “Thanks for letting me sleep. I needed it after such a long trip from Oregon.”
“You drove straight through?” he asked, looking up at her, his dark eyes staring into hers.
She shook her head. “I took a short nap at a truck stop.” Her eyes were locked in his gaze. This wasn’t the plan. In and out, remember, Chelsea?
“At a truck stop? Not very safe, Chels.”
“The doors were locked.” She shrugged. “Besides, I was in a hurry to get here.”
“I can give you a massage after you’re done eating,” he said, letting the last part of the sentence drop off.
“It’s not necessary. I‘ll be fine.”
He acted as though he didn’t hear what she had said. She watched as he turned back to his breakfast and drank the juice. In a matter of minutes, they were finished. He grabbed the dishes and
dropped them in the sink. He mumbled about doing dishes later and then grabbed her by the hand.
“I always watch the local news in the morning,” he said, leading her upstairs.
“Wilson has its own news show now?”
He shrugged. “We still get the city news but I watch it anyway.”
The second floor looked like one great room with two doors off the main room. Everything was done in rich mahogany and brown colors. A large television sat in the corner with bookshelves on both sides. Bay windows overlooked the landscaping beyond the house. Even with the room’s beauty, it didn’t capture her attention like the feel of her hand in his.
Jordan sat down on the couch and patted the floor in front of him. “Sit down. Let me get those knots out.”
She took a few steps in his direction, stopping out of his reach, afraid to let him touch her. If he touched her, then she’d fall madly in love with him all over again. That couldn’t happen. She watched as he leaned forward far enough to grab her by the hand. He pulled her to him.
“Are you sure you want to?”
“Yes,” he said. He guided her down to the floor between his legs. Before leaning back, she slipped her t-shirt off, revealing the navy tank top. His strong hands slid over her skin and she sunk
back against him. She’d forgotten how strong he was, how needy she felt when he touched her. As if by magic, her body slowly began to relax underneath his touch. He kneaded her skin with the palms of his hands. The more he touched her, the more she felt at ease. She leaned forward a bit, making his legs embrace the rest of her body. His hands trailed down the length of her back toward the top of her jeans. A small moan escaped her lips. If only he would go lower.
“Feel good?” The words floated through the air like music from a past dream.
“Mm hm.”
He rubbed the small of her back, his hands working every muscle imaginable. “Remember when I would rub your feet each night after work?”
“The best part of the whole day.” His hands. His voice. He had cast a spell over her.
“I loved those times with you, Chels.”
Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, breaking up her intoxicated sensation. Chels? He used to call her that when they were teenagers. He was the only person who’d ever had a pet name for her.
“Me, too,” she mumbled.
“That’s what has gotten me through until now. Those memories of us from before you disappeared.” His hands stilled, but she could feel their heat against her.
Damn it! Tears welled in her eyes. He couldn’t see them, she wouldn’t allow him to. She scooted away him his touch, far enough away so she could stand up on her own without using his assistance.
“I’m sorry, Jordan. We should
n’t be doing this.”
“What are you talking about, Chelsea?” He tried to grab her by the hand again but this time she walked away from him.
She went over to the windows, dried her eyes and then turned around. “I told you everything, so now I should go.” She walked past him toward the stairs.
“No, you won’t.” The words were ice cold. It seemed like his massage had been some sort of dream.
She froze. “What do you mean, I won’t?”
“Let’s get something clear. Okay?”
She slowly turned around. She had never heard this tone from Jordan in the whole time she had known him. It scared her.
“What?”
He stood up from the couch and walked over to her. His hands jammed into his jean pockets. “There’s a choice to be made here,” he said. “You either stay here to help me locate my daughter or I contact the authorities.”
Chapter 5
“Jordan, don’t do this,” she begged.
“Why not?” He ran his hand through the mass of curls on his head.
“You can’t do this.” Fear gripped her.
“I can.”
“Jordan, please.”
“You’re the one who did it, so you will be the one fixing it. The choice is yours, Chels.” He spat the words out as if her name alone was acid. “Well? What’s your decision?”
“Fine,” she snapped and stomped down the stairs.
Toward the bottom, she heard Jordan call out to her, “Chelsea?”
“Fine,” she yelled back up at him.
She ran into the guest bathroom and slammed the door shut. With the lock twisted in place, she sunk down to the floor and covered her face with her hands. Tears flowed freely. She didn’t
care anymore. Living in denial was much easier than dealing with pain, the pain of knowing how much she had hurt everyone and everything she’d ever set eyes upon.
Anger boiled inside her as she sat in the corner of the bathroom. She deserved every ounce of anger he flung at her, but making her stay? Ridiculous! Maybe she should leave and let him call the authorities.
Minutes seemed like hours before Jordan’s heavy footsteps walked past the bathroom. The front door shut right after. She sucked in her breath, waiting for the door to open again. Was he
looking for her?
When the door didn’t open again, she climbed up from her spot on the floor. After wiping her tear-streaked face on one of the expensive display towels, she unlocked the door and stepped out into the quiet house.
The front door opened a crack so she could peek out, making sure Jordan was gone. Sure enough, he was. She grabbed her shoes and purse from the living room and went out to her car.
Before getting in, she looked up at the house. “Bye, Jordan.”
The heavy weight in her chest arrived again. She hated whenever the feeling reared its ugly head. It had made its appearance so many times over the last few years. Diving into work of some kind provided the relief she needed. With a long drive ahead of her, denying it would be impossible.
She glanced at her car, then back up to the house. A sigh escaped her lips as she dug into her purse for her keys. “I can’t do it. I can’t leave until I find Elizabeth.”
She walked to the trunk to get her suitcase. She would probably regret the decision to pack light, but right at the moment it was to her advantage. It made the suitcase easier to haul across the front yard and up the large set of stairs.
Once inside, she wondered where her room would be. She left the suitcase by the front door to explore the house. A house this size had to have a few guest rooms. She’d choose where to sleep.
At least it would let her maintain a small amount of control over her life.
* * * *
Right as the sun shifted behind the mountain, Jordan came into the room, taking her attention from the computer screen. He dropped down into the chair across the desk from where she sat, looking drained of all energy.
She smoothed back her ponytail and slid her reading glasses off, then folded them and put the glasses down on the desk. Leaning back in the chair, she rubbed her strained eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“Correcting papers.”
“For what?”
“I’m a college professor.”
A hint of a smile appeared. “I’m not surprised really.”
“I tried getting the Markales’ phone number but it seems to be unlisted.”
It was true she tried to locate the family she’d sold her daughter to. If only she could remember the address or phone number. Anything would be better than what she was going on, almost nothing.
“Oh,” he said, then got up from the chair and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Well shit!” He hadn’t even given her a chance to tell him the rest. How were they supposed to figure this out if he stormed off all the time?
She waited a few minutes before making her way out of the office. Each room she passed gave her the opportunity to peek in, get a good look. Since the upstairs wasn’t very large, mostly made up of the great room along with the den, Jordan’s bedroom and bathroom, she moved quickly to the first floor. Where was he, she wondered as she looked in each of the rooms downstairs.
The house was exquisite, with a large kitchen, formal dining room, living room, and two guest bedrooms. She pictured Jordan stressing over blueprints as he planned his dream house and then choosing the perfect materials to build it. One of those rooms would be for her. Would the other soon be decorated for Elizabeth? She sighed. If they found the child soon, she’d be able to go back to her life of living in denial. Or would she be able to now, since she’d come this far?
That was silly. Of course she would. Then she had another thought, would he let her decorate their daughter’s room with him?
As soon as she had slid the sliding glass door open, she found him. He sat in the patio chair with his back to the door, staring at the swimming pool. She walked over and took the chair next to his.
His face had matured, giving him soft lines near his eyes. His dark curly hair and tanned skin gave him an ethnic appearance. The chiseled line of his jaw stayed firm. Strong arms folded across his chest, making his white t-shirt tight against his biceps.
“Boy, I had forgotten how hot it gets here this time of year.”
“It’s something, huh? I don’t know what I’d do in a colder climate. Probably freeze when it’s summertime,” he said with a dry laugh.
“I did when I first left. During my first summer away from Wilson, I lived in sweatshirts. It was weird having everyone looking at me like I was nuts.”
“I’m sure it was.” He reached down to pick at a string on the chair.
“Why did you leave the office so fast?” She glanced away even though the sight of him captivated her.
“Nothing.” He crossed his arms over his chest again. His face set in the frown.
“Jordan, please talk to me.”
“No. It’s nothing, other than having too high of expectations for this situation.” His arms relaxed and dropped down to his denim covered leg.
“I’m sorry but I don’t remember a lot about the family. I never really pictured myself in this situation.”
“What do you remember about them?”
“One is a lawyer and the other a doctor. His sister had been a
midwife. She delivered Elizabeth. I don’t remember their address but I do remember where their house is.”
“That doesn’t do any good, being in Arizona.”
“I should fly back to Oregon and go over to their house.”
“I don’t know.” Why wouldn’t he look at her?
“I’ll leave my car here so you know I’ll be back.”
He got up from his chair and walked around the pool, his hands in his pockets as he stared at the ground. Would he say no or was he considering the idea? Being away from him would give her some much needed breathing room. Maybe it would cut some of the
tension hanging in the air between them.
“Great idea,” he said as he turned to her. “I’ll book us a flight as soon as possible.”
“Us?” Damn, there went her plan.
“Yes. I’m going, too.”
“I’ll be back, Jordan. I won’t skip out on the obligation. You have no reason to trust me but—”
“It has nothing to do with my trust for you, Chelsea. I want to see my daughter and that’ll happen a lot faster if I’m knocking on their door along with you.”
“I should see my family before we go back.” She let her voice drop in defeat. Stuck under Jordan’s powerful thumb, she waited for him to squish her when he saw fit.
“The way gossip spreads around here, it’s a sure fire bet they already know you’re here. I’m surprised they haven’t pounded down my door yet.”
“Speaking of families, how’s yours?” She’d never gotten along with Mary or Bruce Case. Jordan’s sister hadn’t been fond of her either, but a tad bit nicer than his parents.
“Fine. None of them live in Wilson any longer.” He rocked back onto his heels.
“I would never have guessed them moving away. It’s just weird, you know. Everything’s changed here.” But it delighted her. It meant her time would be an ounce better.
He laughed. “Fifteen minutes away in Harrisburg. They stop in whenever they get a chance.”
Shit.
* * * *
The neighborhood remained almost the same as when she had left. One of the houses on her mother’s street still had the same broken down cars parked in the yard. Many were the exact cars from her teen years in Wilson and brought back memories. It was so different from Jordan’s neighborhood, like she had stepped back into the land of trash.
Once parked in front of the small house, she stepped out of the car and looked around. A kid took one look at her and ran toward the back of the house. The cement steps were cracked now and more worn than when she had left. One of the front windows had broken and been patched with duct tape. Her knuckles had barely touched the wood when the door swung open.