The Edge of Everything (The Haven Series)

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The Edge of Everything (The Haven Series) Page 4

by Kaitlyn Oruska


  “Nonsense,” Hannah interrupted. “You can write whenever. It’s Saturday night! We have to do something.” Saturday night was usually when Hannah did something with Jared, but I knew chiming in with that information would not end well for me so I stayed quiet. I removed the last sprinkle from Harper’s hair, a pink one, and wiped her face down with a washcloth.

  “All done,” I said with a smile. “Time for the park?”

  “Yes!”

  I scooped her up and headed towards the living room, where Declan was standing with his hands once again in his pockets and Hannah looked on the verge of an epic pouting session. “We’ll be back,” I said, pretty sure no one heard us. I glanced at Harper as we headed out the door, raising my eyebrows at her in amusement. She returned the gesture and I couldn’t help but laugh, her laughter joining in soon after.

  Chapter 8

  “Hannah’s in love,” I announced, flashing Cynthia a grin across the kitchen table. She glanced up from Harper’s baby name book and smiled softly.

  “Am I supposed to be surprised?” She asked, flipping through the pages and sighing. Her stress was tangible.

  “No,” I conceded. “But I figured it might make for interesting conversation.”

  Cynthia nodded slowly and closed the book, sliding it across the table to me. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just not much for conversation these days. Either too tired or too focused on something else.”

  “It’ll be okay,” I reassured her gently, pushing the book to the side and taking her hands instead. She smiled gratefully but I could see the strain in her eyes. I felt for her. Being pregnant with one baby at sixteen was scary enough; Cynthia might be a little bit older and in a more stable situation, but she didn’t have the same support system I’d had. And she was getting two babies.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, hoping she would.

  “There’s really nothing to talk about,” she said, pulling her hands from mine and leaning back in the chair. “I’m just overwhelmed. I was hoping to at least be in an actual house first, you know? And then we find out it’s twins… it’s just too much too quickly.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, embarrassed that I had no idea what to add. I tried to imagine having two Harpers and felt my blood pressure rise. Double the sprinkles. “I can always move in and help you,” I offered with a smile.

  Cynthia laughed and shook her head. “I don’t think Adam would be too happy about that.”

  “He’s never home anyway. It would take him at least a week or two to figure out I wasn’t there anymore.” I said this with a forced smile, but deep down I knew I wasn’t joking. There was a part of me that honestly believed he wouldn’t notice my absence until he needed something and I wasn’t there to retrieve it for him.

  Cynthia shot me a concerned look. “You don’t mean that.”

  I did, but I smiled like I didn’t. The last thing Cynthia needed was talk about my relationship drama, or lack thereof. Adam and I were getting along better than we’d ever had, really. But that had more to do with absence than acceptance.

  “Tell me who Hannah’s in love with,” she said before I could decide whether or not to tell her more about my worries. “I’m going to assume it isn’t Jared.”

  I shook my head. “No, but apparently she still cares for him. We have this new neighbor, a writer. They went out last night.”

  “Oh wow,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Does Jared know?”

  “Not yet.” I hesitated. “Am I wrong for not telling him? We’re not exactly best friends, but we aren’t strangers either.”

  “No way,” she said adamantly. “That’s Hannah’s business. You know how messy it gets when someone finds out about cheating from someone else.” She flinched. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” I said, swallowing against a lump in my throat. I hated thinking back to those days, finding out from Nolan that Adam had cheated. The shock of it all hurt worse than the betrayal itself.

  “That was a bad situation,” Cynthia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I have to admit, you handled it with more grace and maturity than I would have.”

  “I moved in with his best friend,” I said with an awkward laugh. “I don’t think that was very graceful or mature.”

  “Nolan was your best friend too,” she reasoned. “And you took Adam back in the end. You have forgiveness in your heart, Lainey. That’s not something a lot of people can claim.”

  “I guess.” I wasn’t so sure it had to do with forgiveness as much as need. I loved Adam and I forgave him as much as I could for what he’d done. It was hard because he hadn’t just betrayed me; he’d betrayed our daughter.

  “I’d better get going,” I said, pushing my chair back and standing up. There was yet another paper that needed writing. Cynthia and Mason had agreed to watch Harper for a few hours while I got some work done.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Mason will drop Harper off around eight, is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Are you sure you don’t mind feeding her and giving her a bath? I feel bad.”

  Cynthia pulled herself to her feet. “Don’t be silly. Pretty soon we’re going to have two babies to feed and bathe. Consider this practice.”

  I smiled. “Thanks so much for this, Cyn. And by the way, I think I like Heidi. If you have a girl.”

  “You think?” She glanced at the baby book doubtfully.

  “I do. Keep it for as long as you need, okay?”

  “You might regret saying that.”

  I squeezed her hand and headed for the kitchen window, where I got a view of Mason and Harper on the back deck. Mason was seated on one of the lounge chairs, Harper on his lap, a book open on hers. He was reading to her. The sight nearly melted my heart; making me both happy she had such a wonderful uncle in her life, and sad it wasn’t Adam holding her.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I told Cynthia softly. “You’re both going to be great.”

  Chapter 9

  “How do I not know a single investigative journalist?” I muttered to myself, opening a new tab on my web browser and typing ‘famous investigative journalists’ into the search bar. I stared at the list that appeared, feeling overwhelmed by all the unfamiliar names.

  “Do you always talk to yourself?” A voice asked from behind me. I blinked and looked over my shoulder, surprised to see Declan standing there.

  “Yes. Do you always walk into stranger’s houses uninvited?” The question came across snappy, but I was too distracted to care. Declan looked a little taken aback.

  “I wasn’t aware this was a stranger’s house, so I apologize. Hannah wanted me to stop by and told me the door would be unlocked, so…”

  I closed my eyes and forced myself to keep from screaming. “Hannah’s upstairs,” I said. She’d gotten into an argument with Jared on the phone around lunchtime and had been sulking all day since.

  “Oh.” He stood in the middle of the living room, looking confused and uncomfortable. My mood softened.

  “You can go up and get her if you want,” I said, closing the laptop and pushing it off to the side.

  Declan hesitated before shaking his head. “Nah, that’s okay. Just tell her I stopped by?”

  “I’ll go tell her you’re here,” I said, standing up. It wasn’t like I was really getting anything done, anyway.

  “I don’t want to keep you from doing whatever it is you’re doing,” he said, backing away towards the door.

  “You mean talking to myself?” I smiled. “I think it’s probably best if someone does keep me from doing that. Want something to drink?”

  “You like providing people with beverages, don’t you? Maybe you should be a bartender. And don’t worry about getting Hannah. I can see her later.”

  I pulled two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and extended one to him. I decided not to push the subject of letting Hannah know he was there – he didn’t seem too eager to see her. I wondered if she was being too aggressive with
him.

  “So what were you working on?” He asked, taking a sip of water.

  “A paper,” I replied. “I have to write about an investigative journalist and why they inspire me to want to become one.”

  “Sounds easy.”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I can’t think of one journalist that inspired me. I don’t even really know why I wanted to be one in the first place.”

  “I don’t think most people know why they want the things they want,” Declan reasoned, sitting at the kitchen table and opening the laptop back up. I watched as his fingers moved expertly across the keyboard. “We just want what we want and that’s that. But since you probably can’t get away with putting that in a paper, write about Keith Morrison.”

  “Keith Morrison?” I repeated, sitting next to him. He spun the laptop around, showing me a webpage with a picture of a vaguely familiar man on it.

  “Keith Morrison,” he confirmed. “Ever see Dateline?”

  “Not recently.”

  “Well, he’s on there a lot. And he’s a pretty cool guy. When he talks, it’s like poetry. Makes the horrible things he has to say sound a little less bad.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” I asked doubtfully.

  “It is.” He took another swig of water, his ice blue eyes focused on the screen. “Trust me. Write about him and you’ll get at least a B, guaranteed.”

  “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly. It wasn’t like I was coming up with anything on my own. “So you’re a writer?”

  He chuckled, a low sound coming from deep within his throat. “I am,” he confirmed. “Fiction, mostly mysteries.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at me, a smile in his eyes. “I have no idea,” he answered. “Maybe the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books I read as a kid? I just knew I wanted to write and when I decided to try it out, mysteries are what came out. I don’t question it too much. I’m just grateful it’s worked out.”

  “Nancy Drew, eh?” I grinned at him.

  “What?” He asked defensively. “There’s no law saying boys can’t read Nancy Drew.”

  “No, but maybe there should be. You actually liked it?”

  “More than the Hardy Boys,” he confirmed.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, amused by his open admittance. “I was going to be Nancy Drew for Halloween a few years ago,” I said.

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I took a pregnancy test instead.”

  Surprise appeared in his eyes and a smile slowly formed across his lips. “Sweet,” he said. “Maybe you should have named her Nancy.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. “Don’t think Adam would have liked that name too much, though.”

  “Ah, the elusive boyfriend. So tell me, does he really exist?”

  “I don’t have an imaginary boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” At least I didn’t think I did.

  “Just speculating,” he replied with a sideways grin, grabbing the laptop again and opening up a new document. “So what is this essay on, again?”

  “An investigative journalist and why they inspire us to want to become one,” I recited. Declan’s fingertips once again moved across the keyboard and before I could as much as blink, he had a paragraph out. “What are you doing?”

  “Helping,” he said.

  “You can’t write my paper for me,” I protested, though part of me was screaming to let him go. He was a writer, after all. I could rationalize this by saying I was helping him practice; get in tune with the parts of me I’d inherited from my father.

  “Then don’t use this one. Just read through it when I’m done, get your own ideas and write your own paper. Sound fair enough?”

  “Okay,” I relented, feeling guilty but relieved someone was helping. I felt like I was drowning most of the time, in schoolwork and otherwise. I rested my chin in my hand and watched as he wrote three full pages without so much as blinking or checking back on the website. When he was done he saved the document and turned to me with a dazzling smile.

  “All done,” he said. “If you need any more help, you know where I live. I’m not getting much writing done lately, so I’m always available.”

  “Sounds good,” I said with a smile, sliding the laptop over and closing it before he could decide to do any more of my schoolwork. I wasn’t sure I’d have the resolve to stop him if he did.

  “I know she has a boyfriend, you know,” he said, taking the last sip of his water. I blinked in surprise.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. I could tell by the way she was acting when we first met and the way her phone kept going off last night.”

  “Then why are you…”

  “We’re friends,” he cut in. “I haven’t always made it a point to make friends when I move to a different place, but since I’m likely going to be here for a while I figured I would this time around. Hannah is a sweet girl and I like her a lot. But I’m not that guy.”

  “Then what guy are you?” I asked. There was something about Declan that piqued my curiosity, made me want to know more about him. It wasn’t surprising how quickly Hannah became interested in him.

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” he said with a sly grin. “I’m not proud, but if I have to bribe you into being my friend by acting mysterious and writing your papers, then so be it.”

  I laughed. “No tricking is necessary,” I assured him. “I think I’m about due for a new friend. But Hannah isn’t going to be happy to hear you ‘aren’t that guy.’”

  “She’ll get over it,” he assured me. “And if she’s still with her boyfriend, there’s probably something about him she likes, right?”

  “Right,” I agreed, a different boy appearing in my mind. A boy I wasn’t really sure I knew anymore. And just like that, he left my mind and appeared before me in the flesh.

  “What’s going on?” Adam asked, standing in the doorway, jacket tucked under one arm, briefcase in the other. His tie was loosened and hung crookedly around his neck and he had dark circles under his eyes. I wasn’t surprised when he’d announced he had to work yet another full weekend, but seeing him like this jarred me.

  “This is Declan, our new neighbor,” I introduced. “Declan, this is Adam, my not-so-invisible boyfriend.”

  “Glad to meet you,” Declan said, standing up and extending his hand. Adam stared him down for a few moments too long before reluctantly putting his briefcase down and giving into the handshake.

  “Likewise,” he said, sounding anything but happy to meet him. There was mistrust in his eyes. I knew he felt my doubt sometimes, that he worried someone would swoop into our lives and steal me away the way he was convinced Nolan had.

  “I was just leaving,” Declan announced, sensing Adam’s disinterest in him. He shot me another quick smile. “Remember, stop by any time you need help with your papers. I’d give you my number, but I tend to purposely lose my phone in the house so my agent can’t get ahold of me.”

  I laughed good-naturedly. “Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll tell Hannah you were here if she ever comes back down again.”

  He nodded at both of us and ducked out of the house, closing the door securely behind him. Adam turned to me, a question in his eyes. “What was he doing here?” He asked.

  “He stopped by for Hannah and ended up helping me with one of my papers. How was your day?” I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, closing my eyes as I rested my head against his chest. He felt like home, but a stiff, tense home at the moment.

  “Haven’t decided yet,” he replied.

  Chapter 10

  The blank document page stared at me, taunting me. I opened up a different page, full of words and well-written phrases, none of them mine. The temptation was there, but I wasn’t the type to plagiarize.

  I sighed and exited out of both, closing the laptop and my eyes. It was Wednesday night and the paper was due in two days. If I got a low grade on this one, my average for the semester was going to
be too greatly damaged to come back from.

  I felt hands on my back and opened my eyes, surprised to see Adam standing behind me. “Need help?” He offered. I smiled, knowing full well he couldn’t help me with my paper. Academics had never been Adam’s strong point, at least not in school. He was doing surprisingly well handling the shipments at Reeves Seafood.

  “More than anyone could offer,” I replied, only partially true. He hadn’t seemed interested in discussing Declan’s visit with me after he’d left Sunday afternoon and I didn’t want to push it. I didn’t like Adam’s jealous streak, but I understood it. It seemed there’d always been ‘someone else’ in our relationship, whether that someone else was mine or his. Scott, Maggie, Natalie, Nolan. The list needed to end sometime, but there would be mistrust and insecurity until it did.

  “Come to bed?”

  The suggestion was appealing on a few different levels. Tonight was the first time Adam had gotten home at a reasonable hour in a long time, early enough to actually have dinner together. Of course dinner wasn’t as exciting as it could have been, with Hannah pouting throughout and Harper whining because she’d insisted she didn’t need an afternoon nap. But it was still nice.

  “I really have to get this done,” I said reluctantly, opening the laptop again and preparing to open the blank document for the twentieth time that day. Adam grabbed my hand, pulling it back and using his other one to push the laptop across the table. I flinched when it almost slid off.

  “Says the girl who’s always yelling at me for working too much,” he scolded lightly. “Did you ever stop to think maybe I’m not the only workaholic in this family?”

  “Good point.” I sighed and stood up, wrapping my arms around his waist and squeezing him tightly. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in that familiar sandalwood cologne.

  I pulled away from him and he took my hand, leading me up the stairs and down the hallway to our bedroom, stopping briefly to check on Harper. She was tucked away in her tiny bed, one arm on her pillow, the other wrapped around a stuffed bear Mason bought her earlier in the summer. The sight of her warmed me in a way even Adam couldn’t. She was my baby, my reason for everything.

 

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