What Brings Tomorrow_Book Two

by RJ Heaton

“After dinner, she is swept into his Porsche and he drives her to his bachelor pad. Once they get there that hot young therapist shows my dried-up prune of a friend things far beyond her wildest imagination.” She takes in a deep breath like she just gave a speech on quantum physics and lets out a deep sigh before leaning back in the chair looking spent.

  “My wildest imagination, huh?” She lifts her head to look at me. “I really don’t want to burst your happily-ever-after, but nothing happened.”

  “Well, that’s boring. My version is a lot more interesting.” I giggle.

  “Okay, well, at the time it didn’t feel boring. My stomach hasn’t flipped into that many knots in a really long time, but now that I look back, it is kind of a dull story,” I confess.

  “Prove it!” She protests. “Ugh Nikki, sometimes I really don’t like you.” She throws me her Carrie’s infamous pouty lip look. I slouch. Not in the mood to tell her of that dreadful night, but she is my best friend and I guess I haven’t been keeping her up to date on everything lately.

  I tell her about how I ran into Ethan that night and how he knew Sarah from school. Running into him worked out rather well, at least in making Sean jealous. That part makes me smile. He deserves a slice of his own decadent cheater-razzle-berry pie. Especially, after Sean confronted Ethan in the bathroom.

  “Sean is stupid.”

  “That’s one thing we both can agree on. He is definitely not hitting high marks right now. After all that, Ethan and I go to his house, which is not just a bachelor pad by the way. His house is really nice.” I shake my head and snigger. I had assumed it would be just another bachelor pad too, but I had been pleasantly surprised how tasteful his home is. I take another sip of my wine, “we watched a movie and I fell asleep on the couch. The next thing I knew, I was being woke up by a female voice yelling and then blinded by a bright light. Ethan’s girlfriend … or whatever she is came stumbling in. she saw me on the couch and flipped out calling me a cripple and asking me why I was in her house. I didn’t need a written invitation to vacate. I scooted my tush right out of there. End-of-story.”

  “Oh yeah, my version was much better.” We both look at each other deadpanned and then burst out in laughter. I liked her version better too. At least hers was full of rainbows and bliss. Mine had a cab ride of shame to a lonely hotel.

  “This reminds me of high school.”

  “How, so, because unless we are talking about you … I was only ever with Sean. Ever since our freshman year, I was with him. I don’t recall many ‘boy’ talks.” I add the air quotes around boys.

  “Of course I mean me. But I’m just excited that it’s you who finally has some dirt for once.”

  “I’m ready to be clean. I feel like the dirt I’ve gotten into is real sloppy—more like mud.”

  Carrie and I joke around for nearly half the day.

  Spending time with my best friend is always a good way to spend the day, but our conversation has thoughts of Ethan running wild in my mind.

  ***

  The idea of getting any sleep tonight is a joke. I am a bottled up, twisted mess. My stomach is queasy and my heart, no matter how many deep breaths and calming maneuvers I try to do, keeps pounding in my chest like a rapid beating drum.

  I am wide awake even though I have had little to barely any sleep. I grab for my door maybe getting some fresh air will help ease my mind, and pull it open, but squeal in horror when a body comes in view. “Oh my gosh, you about gave me a heart attack.” I breathe out in relief that it is only Lexie standing in my doorway in the middle of the night.

  “Momma.”

  “Oh honey what’s wrong?” Lexie’s eyes are puffy and discolored pink from crying.

  “I hate him. I hate him so bad.”

  “You hate who?”

  “Dad,” she sniffles and wipes her dripping nose un-lady like with her black sweatshirt sleeve.

  “Hate is a bit harsh wouldn’t you say?” I ask, even though my feelings aren’t too far off from that, but he cheated on me. I have my own personal reasons for my position on the man.

  “I’m going to stay here. I can’t take his crap anymore.” She hiccups.

  “Come here.” I open my arms and she snuggles into me. I have to smile to myself. I remember her fitting on my lap and snuggling in when she was little and so small. I’d embrace her and all the bad things in the world would dissolve.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you Lexie.” I rub her soft hair consolingly.

  “They’re having an engagement party.”

  “What? We aren’t even divorced yet!”

  “I know. And dad got mad at me when I wouldn’t agree to go.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. God only knows what Sean is thinking—marriage? Not a single day goes by that he hasn’t texted or tried to call begging me to come home. Does he think him getting married will do the trick? Dick!

  “Mom, she’s trying to step in and act like she’s in control and she thinks she’s my mother. Sarah called my doctor today. I had a yearly exam last week and the crazy woman had the balls to ask my doctor about my personal things. Who does that? Seriously, I want to punch her in the face.” The anger is all but pouring from Lexie’s pores. I can feel the temperature in the room rise fifteen degrees.

  That one dreadful night of walking in and finding my husband in the action of cheating on me, elicited so many emotions—mainly hurt and devastation. I pinch my eyebrows together trying to erase the scene from my mind as my throat tightens with new feelings. Now, I’m outright enraged. I can literally feel my blood beginning to boil. This woman is about to go mama bear on a young, husband-stealing witch. Sarah has crossed lines. I can’t believe she called Lexie’s doctor and is trying to get information only privy to Lexie. I shake my head in disbelief. I am simply dumbfounded. Not only is this against privacy laws even if Lexie was still a minor, but Lexie is now eighteen years old. She’s an adult. Is this woman that stupid? I want to scream out loud, but I look at my daughter’s red swollen eyes and contain the monster.

  “Yeah honey just come stay here. You don’t have much longer until you’re off to school. Soon this stuff with your dad will be far away and in the past.”

  “How can you stay so calm with this Mom?” If she knew half of the rage going through my mind right now, she wouldn’t be asking me that. How am I going to keep my cool with this? My husband replaces me in bed, but now his new “fiancé” thinks she can replace me and my job as a mother—oh hell no!

  “Oh god,” I gasp. I wonder what she’s pulling with Mathew. He’s still young. Now, I have the incentive to get things moving. It’s one thing if she is just there to give them kindness and help as a stepmom, but to try to annex me out completely … that girl has a rude awakening coming.

  “What is it, Momma?”

  “Nothing honey.” Lexie scoots off my lap and I grunt loudly. “You’ve grown a little since you last sat on my lap.” She laughs.

  “I’ll never be too big for my mom’s hugs and snuggles.”

  I watch Lexie leave my room and completely forget what I was doing. Hearing that Sean has plans to marry Sarah, just solidifies the world is moving on without me. Over the last few days being back here, I mainly hide out in this room watching TV. Having the occasional visitor show up has been nice, but I’m starting to become a bit of a hermit. I let out a deep breath. I’m okay with that. I will end up a lonely old lady living with my sister forever. Maybe, I should get some cats.

  Seven

  “Tammy! No, don’t fall for it. You’re smart enough to know he doesn’t really have cancer.” I grip my pillow tightly to my chest and grumble. “She’s going to do it. Stupid Girl!” Perfect, I have now resorted to yelling at the television. Is this what my life has succumbed to? I laugh into my empty bedroom. One thing is for certain the broadcasting networks know how to zap the time away with useless drama. I have been watching the heck out of Netflix. I never knew how many shows existed until Heather introduced me to this evil little
streaming device.

  My checklist has been crumpled up and tossed to the bottom of my purse—out of sight out of mind. Especially, with Netflix now becoming my best friend. I keep telling myself I’ll get to it. The number one thing on my list is to get divorced and that is in the works. My sister informed me yesterday that we have another appointment with my attorney, Jim Schapp tomorrow. Hopefully, the ball will get rolling. I have no clue how long it takes to get a divorce done, but the sooner the better.

  Lexie has been talking to me more, but I know she’s still mad that I missed her graduation party. I can’t say I don’t blame her. I let her down. I need to find a supernova way to make it up to her.

  Ben has been traveling all over exploring possible graduate schools, and Matthew has started spring training with his baseball team. He’s been super busy. I miss my kids and feel worthless in their lives right now. I shake my head disgusted with myself and where I am right now. I need to dig that list out and start checking things off. Not just for me but for my kids.

  I turn the drama nonsense off and flip through the channels on the regular cable network. I find a cooking channel and stop. The theme today is a cook-off between young kids. I’m instantly engrossed and simply enthralled by the fact that these kids have so much knowledge and experience around a kitchen. I didn’t know even half of this stuff by the time I was well into my first year of culinary school. These kids are amazing little culinary masters at this astonishing young age. I am blown away.

  It would be fun to teach kids culinary arts. They are so willing to learn and explore with flavors.

  “THAT’S IT!” Even in a wheelchair, I could teach basic cooking skills. If I had thought Ethan caused a new spark in me, well this is a full blown lit torch.

  I sit up and push the blankets off my legs. I maneuver over into my wheelchair and push myself out into the dark hallway. Heather and Joe are still asleep, but I am way too pumped to try to sleep now. I know Heather keeps a stash of notebooks in their desk in the home office. I need a notebook to get these ideas scribbled down.

  I get into the office and flick the light on, temporarily blinding myself, and shut the door so I don’t wake anyone else. The office is a small bedroom that they converted into a personal home office space. It has light gray walls with white trimming and a moderate sized dark wooden desk that fills a large amount of the space. A bookshelf is on one wall with a wingback chair next to it and a filing cabinet lines the other wall. The cabinet makes it hard to squeeze through to get behind the desk. I cringe trying to scoot by without scuffing the wood cabinet or the wood on the edge of the desk. I get to my destination and open the top drawer of the desk. It contains pens, pencils, whiteout, erasers, etc. I pull out a nice sleek pen and set it down before I open the next drawer down. A pile of notebooks sit in the drawer some are used and some are wide open perfect for me to scribble down my thoughts. Once I write down a heading: Culinary school for special needs and therapy for disabled. The ideas come pouring out; I’ve never been so determined and focused on starting a business in my life. Being in control of my own kitchen helping and teaching sounds more rewarding than gaining a chevron or serving up the best dish to someone who consumes it in a matter of seconds and then the feeling is quickly evaporated. No this could be a lifelong feeling of accomplishment,

  I scribble down basic notes of how and why and then start writing in more depth under subcategories. “This really could work.” I’m pumped and smiling like a goon when the office door flies open and scares me half to death.

  “EEP!” I squeak.

  Heather laughs and once my heart dislodges from my throat, I join her and laugh too. “You scared me.” I try to give her my best glare, but my upbeat mood doesn’t let me convey my faux anger.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I had an idea. I needed to write it down.”

  “An idea? At what…” she looks around the room when her eyes rest on a clock mounted on the side wall, “At five thirty in the morning?”

  I chuckle again. “No, actually about two-thirty this morning,” I admit.

  “You’ve been in here for three hours writing down an idea?”

  My smile widens and I brush a stray hair behind my ear. “Yep.”

  “Are you going to elaborate?”

  “I think I am going to open my own business.” I beam.

  “Really? What kind of business?” I can hear the excitement in her voice. It pleases me to know that she not only likes the idea of me running my own business, but the tone she reiterates lets me know that she will support my decision.

  “I’m just working out the ideas right now, but hopefully I can get it together to come up with an in-depth business plan. When I get it all together I will take it to the bank.” I sigh, the bank is the hard part. I have no clue if they would give a crippled-up lady money for something like this. “I will have to get a loan for what I want to do.”

  “Don’t get too hung up on the money part. We’ll figure that out. Heck who knows what the attorney will say today—maybe he’ll have good news. Maybe, he’ll be handing out one hundred dollar bills by the stack.” I laugh.

  “Yeah right.” I crinkle my nose at her. I had forgotten about meeting the attorney. The new business idea had me so stoked that it had completely slipped my mind. It still doesn’t feel right getting any sum of money from the accident. Lance is gone. I’m left on this earth half broken. Some kind of sick joke this is. I make a pitiful noise that was supposed to be a laugh of disgust, but comes out sounding like a dying animal. I know I should look at the bright side of this. It could be worse. I could have become paralyzed from the neck down and have no movement of any of my extremities.

  Eight

  The ride over to my attorney’s office is silent. I can’t wait to get Sean out of my life. He is torturing our children and doesn’t even bat an eye. I grunt inwardly. It probably is a good thing that I am stuck in this dang wheelchair. If I could … oh, that man would have a piece of me. I clench my fists, or at least I try. I hope that Jim Schapp has good news and works lightning fast.

  “I’m not sure if your buddy Lance was overly paranoid or if he got severely hackled by his insurance agency. The good news for us; he had a policy with a one-hundred/three-hundred Bi coverage plan with a million-dollar umbrella policy.”

  I stare at Jim not versed in insurance lingo. I know that there are gazillions of different types of coverage, but umbrella policies? He must sense my confusion, and smiles widely at me.

  “Yeah, all that mumbo jumbo gets confusing to me too. In short, Lance was prepared for just this type of circumstance.”

  “So what does that mean?” It’s Heather asking the question for the both of us.

  “Good news. That’s what it means.”

  “But … but he was drinking and driving way too fast. Wouldn’t it be his fault?” He nods his head at me while digging through some papers.

  “I just got the final investigation reports from the Highway Patrol. They did determine alcohol, speed and road conditions were all a factor, but in this situation, you were the passenger. His insurance company is still liable to compensate you for punitive costs … You know for your bodily injuries and other compensations.” Again, he is speaking in large foreign words, but I try to follow what he is telling me. My head is spinning.

  “Then my sister is entitled to some monies from this even though Lance was at fault?”

  “Exactly.” He takes a big breath and looks between both Heather and me. “Usually the insurance companies reach a settlement agreement fairly quickly, but sometimes they like to wait to see if there will be more medical bills accrued. They will make payments to cover your medical costs once investigations are all done and they know that this is on their dime.”

  “That’s a relief. Those medical bills are going to be outrageous.” I nod my head in agreement with my sister. How much money could Nikki actually get?” Leave it to my sister to get right to the point. I’m still reel
ing about getting money for the medical bills. That alone is a ton.

  “Considering the injuries you have sustained, the inability to currently work, losing your job and possibly having physical impairment for the rest of your life. I will start by asking for a million dollars.”

  I inhale sharply and somehow choke on my own spit. The coughing fit begins as I try to catch my breath. Heather pats me on my back while I sputter in shock. “Are you okay?”

  “Wat …err.” I gasp out.

  “Allow me.” Jim stands from behind his desk and goes to the waiting area, while I try to mentally stabilize. His words are playing ping pong against my skull—a million dollars—a million dollars.

  “Can you believe that?” Heather asks excitedly. “You could start your business.”

  “I … that’s crazy.” Jim comes back in and hands me a white paper cup filled to the top with ice cold chilled water. I drink half of it down. My choking calming.

  “Do you really think she could get that much?”

  “Without a doubt.” He smiles and nods. “Of course it will be a tough negotiation, but we have a pretty good case.”

  Getting money from Lance’s overly cautious hefty insurance plan still weighs heavy on my chest. “Nikki, Lance prepared for this. He set up extra insurance coverage to protect his loved ones. To protect you—to help you rebuild. He added this extra cushion because he wants you to be okay.”

  I let Heather’s words soak in. It does seem to appear that Lance really had put thought into his plan. I know that Lance wouldn’t want me and the kids to struggle. If he is looking down on us from somewhere, he would be yelling at me for being so stubborn and to take the damn money. I snigger to myself. I bet he has some choice words for his best friend, Sean about now too. If it were me in his place I’d be pissed that I died because of him.

  Screw it.

  I do deserve this.

  “What’s our next step?”

  “I will be taking a few depositions and then we will meet with a mediator and the insurance company. In the meantime, you just need to continue your therapy.”