by Various
“I’m going to the store. Need anything?”
“Jordan, we stopped at the store on the way home from the airport last night,” she said.
“Something’s bothering you.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while his hands remained jammed into his back pockets. His gaze shifted over to the pool as he claimed, “Nothing’s going on. Do you mind if I take Elizabeth with me?”
“I’m sure she’ll love it but don’t bullshit me, Jordan. I know something’s going on, so tell me what the problem is.”
He looked down at her. “Well, Chelsea, I promised to throw my mom’s birthday party here. I forgot about it until my sister called right before dinner.”
“Why be upset over that, Jordan? It’s fine.” She reached out to stroke his leg. She loved the feeling of him.
“They don’t like the fact you’re here.”
“I’m leaving on Monday.”
He shifted his weight again and looked away. “The party is tomorrow.”
“I’ll stay upstairs. They won’t have to see me.”
His gaze jerked back to her. “No. Chelsea, you’re a guest in my home and I’m inviting you to the party.”
“Jordan, your family doesn’t like me and I don’t blame them one bit. I refuse to be a disruption to your mom’s birthday.”
“Damn it, Chels. I want to be with you as much—Oh never mind. I’m leaving.” He spun around and stomped to the door. The door flew shut, ending with a bang, and leaving her uncomfortable in the peacefulness of the evening.
Tears trickled down her cheeks and she crossed her arms over her chest. Stop crying! This isn’t worth crying about! Then she heard the gates open. She got up from her chair and left all of her stuff. She figured she needed to wash her face and catch her breath.
She looked around Jordan’s room and dread filled her. It wasn’t fair things had to go this way. They had come such a long way and where was she? Going back to her real life.
Bile quickly rose in her gut. She ran to the bathroom in time to make it in the toilet. After two more times, she straightened up and began a search for a hand towel.
The large bathroom was decorated in various shades of gray,
giving it a masculine touch. Cupboards were everywhere and she opened each door to peek inside. Surely, he’d have something here somewhere, she thought and then she opened the linen cupboard. She yanked the last hand towel from its place. A book hit her foot.
She bent over to pick it up. Curiosity took a hold of her.
Too girly to actually be Jordan’s. She flipped open the purple cover with a glittery butterfly. Bailey’s name was written in elegant handwriting on the inside cover. Bailey’s journal. She went to slide it back on the shelf but stopped herself. Jordan probably didn’t know about it or he would have tossed it in the trash.
She walked into the bedroom again and hid it in the pocket of her suitcase. She’d figure out what to do with it later. After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash out her mouth, she decided to head back down to the pool. Maybe this time would go better.
She hoped she didn’t get sick again. Ridiculous! At least this time, no one was around to hear her and start with their questions. Three different times warranted a trip to the doctor. She’d make
an appointment with Dr. Luncha as soon as she went back to Oregon. Another reason to go back.
She opened the novel again and tried to read the new chapter, but the questions her family would’ve been asking popped in her thoughts. “Okay, it’s the flu. The last time I’ve felt this way
was…” She thought a minute and then sat straight up. The book fell to the ground. “Oh shit! I have to be pregnant.”
This couldn’t be happening to her. Not again. What should she do? Call her sisters? No. Confirm it first.
She locked the sliding door once she went inside. Not even bothering to change, she decided to throw on a sundress over her bikini, grabbed her purse, and then ran out the front door.
It was a short trip over to Brock’s General. The grocery store seemed like a better choice, but since she didn’t know where on earth Elizabeth and Jordan were, she didn’t want to risk them seeing her with a pregnancy test in her hand. It would’ve been her luck to run into them.
“Is this all?” the clerk, who she thankfully did not know, asked while putting the pregnancy test into a small paper bag.
“Yes,” Chelsea mumbled with flushed cheeks. Good gracious. Twenty-seven-year old women should be able to buy pregnancy tests without being embarrassed. She held her head a little higher.
“I hope it turns out the way you want it to.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile, handed the woman the exact change. How did she want it to turn out? She really didn’t know.
“I don’t need a receipt.” She turned away from the counter
to head out.
She stopped at the door. Something was different about the store. The “missing” poster of her was gone. “Where’s the picture?”
The clerk went back to stocking shelves. “Mr. Brock took it down,” the clerk said with a shrug.
“But why?”
“He said the girl has finally been found.” The cashier giggled as she glanced down at the box of condoms she held in her hand.
She smiled. “Did her family tell him?”
“No. The woman came in and talked to him. He said Chelsea could never fool him even if she tried because he would recognize the sweet girl anywhere.” The clerk gave a bored smile while putting more boxes of condoms on the shelf.
So Mr. Brock had known, she thought on the way home. People were amazing at times.
She parked in Jordan’s spot and ran into the house. She couldn’t be in the middle of the test when they got back. “I can’t be careless this time. I don’t know what to do but whatever it is, I have to do it right,” she said to herself as she ripped open the box.
A few seconds later the test sat on the counter ready to compute the results. She stared at the little white stick with anticipation, waiting for the answer to her biggest question. It didn’t even take the whole three minutes. The second line appeared.
“I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER 23
The sounds of happy people filled the evening air; fire in the pit flickered and made long shadows over the people standing around it. Splashing and squeals came from the pool.
Chelsea recognized Jordan’s parents right away, but her gaze settled on Elizabeth. The party was in full swing, with laughter from the guests playing in the pool and music from a radio near the bonfire. It had been going on like this for hours.
Elizabeth swayed to the music down by the fire. Her hair flowed behind her like dark waves. She looked like some sort of angel down there. Jordan walked over to her, probably to ask her to dance with him. His hand grasped her thin girlish waist while their hands clasped together. He danced the waltz with her. Her head tilted back as if she let go a gigantic laugh. They looked so wonderful together. What they would look like during the father-daughter dance at her wedding?
With misted eyes, she yanked the curtains closed in hopes of blocking out the happiness. Tears slid down her cheeks. She wished there were drapes in her mind and over her heart so she wouldn’t be able to see those images either.
After flopping on the bed, the tears finally stopped but she rubbed her hand over the growing mound. He still didn’t know and it was hard not to call her sisters to blurt the news. She resisted the urge to call them and kept her lips zipped during breakfast and lunch with Jordan. Hard, but she did it.
“I won’t get rid of you, baby,” she whispered softly as she rubbed her belly. “But we’re still going back to Oregon. I don’t want to, but it’s for the best.” It was what they’d planned from the beginning of this ordeal. Sticking to it would keep things less complicated. Besides, why stay where she wasn’t wanted?
After making a trip to the bathroom, she paused at her suitcase. The journal! She pul
led it out of her suitcase again and walked over to Jordan’s bed. She curled up on the massive mound of
pillows and opened the cover. The front page revealed Bailey’s elegant handwriting.
She skipped over parts of the journal where Bailey talked about stupid things in her life such as getting her hair dyed, selling an expensive house, or a ‘rocking party.’ Her eyes quickly scanned
the pages for Jordan’s name. Several entries later, she found one.
March 15th,
I finally got what I wanted and moved in with Jordan. Am I convinced of his love for me? Not entirely. He claims he does but I know it’s not the knock-your-socks-off kind that I want. I hope it happens sometime. He’s a good catch and every single woman in Wilson wants to snag him! His heart may be with Chelsea still but technically, he is mine.
It’s weird being in this house. It seems like everything is decorated how Chelsea would want it. Not for him, not for me. Even though we have been together for awhile and I have stayed over here several times, I don’t feel at home here. I wonder if I eve r will. Right now I’m a guest.
Tonight is our first night living together. I plan on making him forget about Chelsea all night long —
She skipped the rest of the entry and flipped a few more pages. The writing seemed more rushed, perhaps angry?
April 23rd,
Jordan did it. He called out her name in his sleep. Chelsea. Such a simple name, but one that has haunted me for years. He should have been with me back then, but no. He chose her and in his heart he still chooses her. If she were to come back, which he is hoping for, I’ll be out on my ass on the street!
She flushed a little and shifted on the bed before turning the page to the next entry.
April 24th,
I talked to Lisa about what Jordan did. She says he’s getting used to a woman living with him. Since he hasn’t been with anyone besides me since Chelsea, he’s probably adjusting to the
change. I sure hope she’s right but I don’t think so.
She skipped to the middle of the journal.
Oct. 28th,
Things are worse now than before. He is never here while I’m awake. He comes in after I’m already in bed each night and is up ready to go to work before my alarm goes off. He doesn’t kiss
me anymore, make love to me, or anything else. I told him I wanted to get married. Maybe that’ll do the trick? He isn’t going for it though . He got mad and stomped out. I hate this place. I hate it because everyone is still talking about damned Chelsea Montgomery. Was she the infamous princess of this town or what? Everyone supposedly hated her. Then why continue to talk about her years later ? I’m going to try to get Jordan to sell this godforsaken house that is nothing but a shrine to her. How can I have a normal relationship while he still mourns for her? She may not be actually dead, but he acts as though she is. The talking in his sleep drives me crazy. Sometimes I can’t take it so I sleep in the guest room.
Chelsea wanted to throw the book against the wall. Better yet, the garbage disposal. Unfortunately, her curiosity got the better of her. She flipped to the next entry. The hasty writing told her Bailey had been angry. The date hadn’t been added.
He called me her name tonight. He called me Chelsea! What bullshit! Do I look like Chelsea Montgomery? I told him to sell the house or I’m leaving. I will not be here in this house watching
him pray for her return. He told me to get out. I asked for some time to get a place, he said I have a week. I am going to leave this so when she does return , as I know she will, she’ll know how much he really loves her and what a man she left behind. I think that type of love only comes once a lifetime.
After Chelsea had read the last line of the last real entry, tears were rolling down her cheeks. She tried choking them back but it didn’t help. Her hand slid over her belly.
“I don’t want to go,” she whispered. “I want to stay here with your daddy and sister. I want him to help raise you. To watch you grow.”
She picked up the book again and the back flipped open. A surprise revealed itself to her. After wiping tears away, she began to read.
March 11th,
Dear Chelsea,
I’m writing this and leaving it here for you because I know you’ll be back sometime. It’s you
who he should be with, not me. You have his heart and always will. I really sincerely hope things work out between you two.
Bailey
By the time she closed the journal, her cheeks were wet again from her tears. Her hand instinctively found her tummy as if to protect the growing fetus.
She got up and walked into the adjoining bathroom for a pair of scissors. Not wanting the words to hurt Jordan since he must have cared about Bailey even though he hadn’t loved her, she cut the journal into pieces. Once the book had become nothing but pieces of paper piled on the counter, she picked up the small trash can to slide them in. He’d never know what it was—probably wouldn’t even care.
She pulled open the dresser drawer Jordan had loaned her for her clothes and piled them into her open suitcase. Once the first two drawers were done, the music had been turned off and the voices slowly died down.
The bed where she had slept with Jordan several nights, curled up in his arms, grabbed her attention. It had seemed he hadn’t wanted to let go of her for fear she’d disappear. She for sure
didn’t want him to let go. How could she leave? Leave the man that stole her heart and leave the daughter she’d just found?
Once she sat down on the bed again while rubbing her tummy, she pictured the future. Taking care of her baby alone wasn’t something she wanted. It needed to be her, Jordan, and Elizabeth
together with the new baby. The way it was supposed to be.
But she couldn’t stay somewhere only because of the pregnancy. Jordan had contacted her to get Elizabeth. She’d only stay if he wanted to be with her, pregnant or not. Maybe she could talk to Jordan and see what he said about her staying before she revealed the pregnancy. Just in case, she grabbed the pregnancy test out of the suitcase’s hidden pouch and crossed her fingers as she put it into her jean pocket.
The splashing had stopped, the fire had dimmed and the music no longer blared from the speakers. The party had finally finished. She opened the bedroom door and listened. No rustling footsteps made their way to the door. Once she heard the TV playing in the family room, she stepped out of the bedroom. Elizabeth was curled up in the recliner watching a children’s channel.
“Where’s your dad?” asked Chelsea.
“In his office, I think.” Elizabeth had already taken her shower. The mound of black curls was still damp and she looked adorable in her pink pajamas with matching fuzzy slippers.
“Is everyone gone?” She leaned against the side of the recliner.
“Yes. I think so.” Elizabeth twirled a curl around her finger as she kept her eyes on the TV.
“Did you have a good time?”
“Yes. You should’ve come down. I put a plate of dinner in the fridge for you.” She glanced up at her.
“Thanks, honey.” Chelsea kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head before she walked down the stairs. Leaving her child a second time would break her heart all over again.
She wanted to be Elizabeth’s mother, to be the one to help her through her first heartbreak and every good and bad experience to come up in the sweet girl’s life.
She walked down the hall but stopped outside the partially opened office door. Voices flooded out to her. One was Jordan’s and the other belonged to a female. A chill swept over her.
“Kick her out of here. You got Elizabeth back, so why let her stay?” the woman asked.
Her cheeks flushed as she tightened her hands together to prevent from stomping into the room.
“It’s not like she’ll be here forever. Deal with it, Mother,” Jordan spat. Jordan’s words made her flinch backward. What? Didn’t Jordan want her here? The boiling blood rushed through her body.
“Sh
e gave your baby away. Make her leave and get on with your life. You have Elizabeth to think of now. Besides, I raised you better than this.”
She hated Mary’s squeaky voice and the way she talked to Jordan. She couldn’t see Mary from her angle outside the door but could picture the woman’s pencil-thin finger aimed at Jordan. Hate filled her. She hated Mary, hated Jordan’s words, hated the idea of leaving.
Jordan sighed. “Chelsea will be gone on Monday.”
She slammed into the office. The door bounced off the back wall. “Maybe I should leave now if that’s the way you feel.”
“Chelsea!” Jordan jerked his body up straight, his eyes wide with surprise. “I’m not the one who wanted you to go. It’s my moth—”
“I’m leaving now.” She ignored his mother’s smirk and went out the door. Running through the kitchen and up the stairs, she pushed at the bile threatening to make an appearance.
The image of a tear-streaked face caught her attention. I look
horrible, she thought as she looked at the lanky hair and puffy eyes. Those complimented her old drab college t-shirt and sweatpants. Sighing, she grabbed her suitcase off the bed and lugged it down the stairs. She shoved past the gloating mother and ignored Jordan’s protests to stop.
Jordan called to her, but she didn’t give in, even though she wanted to. He ran ahead of her and jumped on the hood of her car.
“Move,” she ordered.