by Marie James
I’m talking to the baby I’m not even certain has ears yet about what to have for lunch when Jillian wanders into my office. The first time she caught me doing it I felt like a complete idiot, but her ‘tell him auntie Jillian says hi’ reaction set me at ease.
“Has he decided what we’re having today?” She asks and sits down in her usual spot.
“He or she thinks Chinese food will be best,” I answer with a smirk. “But I don’t think I can handle all the sodium. We’re compromising with that buffet place down on Chamberlain.”
“A little bit of everything. Good choice.” I make sure I have everything I’ll need and stuff it all in my purse before she begins speaking again. “What are you doing this weekend?”
I glare at her. “No.”
“What?” She smirks at me.
“Don’t even ask. I learned my lesson the last time. You know Justin asked me if he could kiss me.”
“Did you?” She leans in closer like we’re sharing gossip no one else should hear.
“Of course not,” I huff.
She arches a brow at me. “Why not?”
I shake my head in response.
“You can talk to me you know.” She's sincere. I’ve learned that Jillian is always sincere, even when it’s something you don’t want to hear, she’s brutally honest.
“Okay,” I agree needing to talk to someone; the emotional roller coaster I ride every day is becoming exhausting. “This weekend?”
“Of course. I’ll come to your place and bring chocolate and a chick flick.” She grins from ear to ear. “Let’s go feed that baby,” she says nodding to my invisible bump.
Saturday has arrived quicker than I’d anticipated. I don’t know why but I’m nervous about spilling my guts to Jillian. I know she won’t judge me, but that doesn’t stop me from judging myself. Hindsight is always twenty/twenty and looking back I can see all of my mistakes like they should have been blatantly obvious while they were occurring even though I know when you’re in the situation perception is always different.
I inwardly wince at the look of pure shock on Jillian’s face after completing my history about Brian. I clear my throat to keep from crying as she clutches my hands and a tear rolls down her cheek. She tries to speak, but it seems her throat is just as blocked as mine. She slowly just shakes her head back and forth in disbelief.
I move onto Trent and Keira next, and like any good friend she gets madder than a wet hen. I honestly think if I wanted to go seek vengeance on either one or both of them right now, she’d offer to drive and pay for the gas. As a woman, she knows the detriment we all have when a friend betrays us. Most aren’t double-crossed as thoroughly as I was, but we all know the pain when someone we trusted stabs us in the back.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She finally asks.
“Nope. They were going at it in the office at the bar. He used the same pet name on her that he’d used with me for years.” I explain.
“What was the pet name?”
“Kitten,” I respond.
“Ick. Really, London? You let that man call you kitten?” She crinkles her nose, and it makes me laugh.
“It was enduring when I thought it meant something to him,” I admit with mild disgust. “Now that I heard him use it with her I hate cats all together!” We both laugh and it lifts my spirits slightly, but I know the rest of the story is coming and even though I suffered the abuse for years and Trent ripped my heart out, it’s the last part of the story that hurts the most.
“So the baby is Trent’s?” Here we go.
I sit back further on the couch and curl my legs under me, getting comfortable for the emotional devastation I’m sure is going to hit.
“That’s the thing,” I admit softly. “I haven’t told you about Kadin yet.”
I continue my story up until the day I left Kadin’s condo, and she’s sitting beside me with her mouth gaping open.
“You’ve dealt with more shit in the last ten years than most people go through in several lifetimes!” She finally says.
“Don’t I know it,” I mumble.
“He just lied to you and left with that woman?”
I nod because words are too difficult at the moment.
“What are you going to do?” Her voice is soft, and I appreciate her ability to read my mood and respond in kind.
I shrug and wipe a stray tear from my eye. “I’m doing it. I’m taking care of myself. Saving money for when the baby gets here. Living my life. I’m okay with where I am. It’s not the situation I ever dreamed I’d be in, pregnant and single, but I’m making the most of it.”
“What about Kadin?” she asks gently.
“What about him?” I look up at her.
“You love him.”
“And he loves her,” I say referring to Savannah. “I can’t compete with a ghost, Jillian. He spent seventeen years with her; the couple of weeks I was in his life don’t even compare.”
We sit in silence for several long minutes. “Plus, let’s not forget about the twin. I don’t even know what’s going on with her, but there’s enough there that he lied to me to go be with her. I refuse to play second fiddle to anyone else. Ever.”
“Believe me I get that.” She agrees, but then looks away.
“What? Just say it, Jillian.” I may be asking for trouble, but I want everything out in the open.
“You’ve had no closure,” she finally says. “I think if you had some-good, bad, or indifferent-it would help you move on. I know you put on a brave face, but I notice the times at work when you grow distant. I’ve seen your eyes begin to water and how hard you fight to keep the tears at bay some days. If you spoke to him and laid it all out, I think you could actually move on, rather than pretending like you have.”
“Tell me what you really think,” I mutter with a small laugh.
She’s right even if I don’t want to admit it. Most days at the office are hit or miss when it comes to my emotional stability. I usually blame it on the crazy hormones, but I know it has more to do with my unhealed shattered heart.
“I don’t know if I can face him,” I admit somberly.
“You need closure. That’s if it’s what you actually want.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m all for kicking an asshole to the curb, but you should confront him about it. The situation with Trent and Keira was different than what happened with Kadin. There was no room for misconstruing what they were doing, but the thing with Kadin could possibly be different.”
I sit quietly for a while and mull over what she just said. This whole time I’ve pushed reasoning with what he did to the back of my head, telling myself I’m tired of making excuses for people who hurt me. I turned Kadin’s lie into an all-or-nothing; myself, of course, ending up with nothing.
“You think I made the situation with Sierra into more than it actually is?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “I’m not saying that at all. There’s something there, but without him explaining it you’ll never know just how deep it goes with her. Did you get a vibe he was sneaking around the week you were at the condo with him?”
“No,” I answer truthfully. “I mean he retreated into himself a couple of times and I’m certain that had more to do with Savannah than anything, but it wasn’t until that Sunday that things got weird.”
“You need to let him explain,” she says resolutely.
“And if he feeds me a line of shit?”
“You walk away because you’ve done everything you can. But you know as much as I do that he deserves to know about that baby.” I hate when she’s right.
We left the subject alone after that and tortured ourselves with The Notebook… twice. When she left, I went to the park nearby and sat watching the moms and dads play with and chase after their children. The smiles on their face brought one to my own.
I know I have to tell him even if there’s a chance this baby is not his, but that’s not the reason I’m sitting in the parking lot of his building gripping t
he steering wheel with sweaty hands. I’m here because I miss him more than I could ever explain. I left months ago, but I can still close my eyes and see his handsome face; I can still hear his voice as if he’s standing behind me whispering in my ear.
I’m terrified that he’ll lie to me or worst yet tell me he has no room in his life for me. I’m scared to death that he won’t be happy to see me. Certain I’ll walk away from here today rejected by him has my stomach in knots. I haven’t been on this side of town since the day I left; I’ve avoided it like sure death would come if I crossed over into his territory.
Stepping out of my car, I can’t stop the tremble of my hands and the thunderous pounding of my heart. I’m full blown trembling by the time I get off the elevator and stand in front of his door. I’ve raised my hand to knock more than a half dozen times and each time I’ve lowered it and paced up and down the hall.
Taking a final deep breath, I lift my hand one last time and tap gently on the door. I wait a few seconds and turn to get back on the elevator, suddenly relieved and heartbroken at the same time that he hasn’t answered. Before I can take a solid step, I hear the door tug open. I freeze momentarily but eventually turn around to look into the eyes of the man I dream about on a nightly basis.
I gasp when my green eyes meet blue ones instead of the chocolate brown I’d grown to love.
“Can I help you?” The elderly man asks from the doorway.
I try to look over his shoulder, but he steps to the side, further blocking my view. “I’m.” I clear my throat because that just came out in a squeak rather than English. “I’m looking for Kadin Cole.”
He blinks at me a few times but doesn’t respond, and I have to wonder if he’s senile. “He used to live here.”
He tilts his head up as if he’s checking his memory for the name; he comes up empty. “Names not familiar, but I’ve lived here the last forty years.” Clearly he’s senile.
“Okay, thank you.” I tell him respectfully and get back on the elevator.
He’s moved, and now I have no way to reach him. I’ve waited too long, and I’ll never see him again. This hurts almost as much as the day I walked away. In the back of my mind I’d always assumed I’d have the chance to speak to him, tell him about the baby; apparently I was wrong.
I didn’t have even the slightest clue what therapy would bring to a head. It’s been a very eye-opening experience to say the least. After my tantrum in the condo the night I packed away Savannah’s things I realized I’d never wanted to live in that damn condo in the first place; being in the middle of town was what Savannah had wanted. Once again I bent and compromised because I wanted her happy more than anything in the world.
Dr. Long also helped me realize that staying there not only forced me to hold onto the past but also the hope that London would return. Not one word from her in three months made me face the realization she wasn’t coming back. The two weeks we spent together obviously didn’t impact her life as much as it did mine.
I know I’ll probably never find her, but that hasn’t kept me from calling around to doctor’s offices and hanging around baby stores. It’s become second nature that I stop in and roam around every time I see a sign that even hints at having baby items. I know I’m wasting my time, but I have nothing else to do.
I moved out of the condo a month and a half ago. I figured three months of her not showing up proved she never would. If it weren’t for the fact that she was possibly pregnant, I might have given up looking for her altogether. I may stop looking for her eventually, but I can’t imagine I’ll ever stop caring for her. She somehow has become part of my soul, and that never goes away.
I bought a home that’s rural to Spokane on a large part of land. As a distraction, I’ve actually spent the time to furnish it just how I want it. I left every piece of furniture I owned in the condo, except for the queen sized bed London and I slept in when she was there. Creepy I know, but it’s the only thing I have from that time that she’d touched.
I also got a dog. Dr. Long felt like some form of companionship was a necessity, and since I don’t see myself jumping into the dating pool anytime soon, it seemed like the best alternative. Pudge, the mixed breed mutt I rescued from the local shelter, and I roam the property around the house most evenings, and he has free range of the land when I’m gone.
I’ve gotten things under control at work, and I’ve been going to the Sunday dinners with my family. After a long heart to heart with my dad, I’ve cut my hours back at the office and only work a regular workweek rather than the sixty to seventy hours I’d been putting in before Savannah passed. I explained to him that I didn’t want to work that much in the first place, but did since she was at work herself. My saving grace was Lisa reconsidering and coming back to work after she had her baby. I’m certain the full-time day nanny and nursery I set up onsite convinced her.
I don’t work at all on the weekends anymore which is why I’m sitting on the front porch watching Pudge chase after a half deflated basketball. The thing is in tatters and reeks to high heaven but it came with him from the shelter, and he loves it. Who am I to deny the guy of something he loves?
I’m mid-laugh when I see Kegan’s truck making its way up the driveway. I no longer feel dread when I see a family member drive up, and the sight of my baby brother climbing out of his truck makes me happy. We’ve spent quite a bit of time together since I moved here. He constantly bitches about having to drive so far out, but I refuse to go to his nasty apartment. I told him I could meet him there if he ever got out of his bachelor phase and cleaned shit up. He hasn’t complained about coming out here since; clearly he’s not ready for that big of a step in his life.
He reaches down and scratches Pudge’s head and has to hold the pizza he’s carrying higher so the dog can’t jump up and get it.
“He seems much healthier,” he says as he walks up the porch steps.
“He eats like he’s starved every day. He’s filled out quite a bit since I got him home.” I reach down and pat Pudge’s head as he wiggles excitedly never taking his eyes off of the pizza box Kegan sat on the patio table.
“I think I should get a dog,” he says absently.
I laugh. “You can hardly take care of yourself. Why would you want to torture an innocent animal like that?”
He smirks back at me. “Maybe you’re right.” He flips the lid to the box and takes a slice out then slides it closer to me.
“Let me guess?” I say looking at my watch. “You’re here to watch the game?”
He nods and continues chewing. He doesn’t wait until he swallows before saying, “Your TV is bigger than mine.”
I grimace as food falls out of his mouth. Pudge is on it in seconds. I shake my head knowing my brother may remain single for the rest of his life.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the impromptu meal. I toss the crust of my last piece to Pudge and stand. “Pregame is about to start.” I head into the house; Kegan and Pudge follow.
Kegan left shortly after the game, and I spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up after him. He’s like a tornado that manages to leave destruction in his wake. I hear the doorbell chime as I wad up the Clorox wipe I used to get his finger prints off my coffee table.
He must have left something; I think as I pull open the door. “What did you…?” I stop mid sentence and cringe when I see not Kegan, but Sierra standing on my front porch.
I haven’t seen her since she was carted off by the employees from the mental health institution. Her parents let me know last week that she was out and seemed to be doing better. I figured it would take her longer to find me.
“Hey, Sierra,” I say as platonically as I can but remain in the doorway, apprehensive to let her in the house.
“Hey, baby.” I wince at her use of the nickname. “Can I come in? I brought a gift.” She holds up exactly what I would expect from her, but the bottle of whiskey doesn’t hold the same power over me that it did five months ago.
<
br /> “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Sierra.” I try to keep the tone of my voice neutral.
“You didn’t tell me you moved. It’s almost insulting that you’d leave and not tell me where you went.” She bites her lip, and I know it’s a failed attempt at seduction. “Imagine my surprise to see an old man answer your door at the condo.”
“How did you find me?” I know she has unlimited resources considering her net worth, but I’d like to know what she did exactly so I can let her parents know. She seems to grow more unstable as the years go by. She was what I’d call quirky when Savannah and I started dating, but this is borderline stalking.
She ignores my question which is typical of her. “I was hoping we could have a drink and make love. I’ve missed you. It’s been months since I’ve felt you inside of me.”
I close my eyes and squeeze them tight hoping she’d just disappear but knowing it’s never that simple.
“Sierra.” The word sound like a plea, which in a way it is. “We’ve been over this.” I keep the chastisement out of my voice as much as I can knowing she doesn’t do well with feeling like she’s being talked down to. “I don’t drink anymore and what we… did. Can’t happen again.” I can’t even put it into words.
“Made love, Kadin. We made love.” She says her voice growing louder, the agitation becoming apparent in her demeanor as she begins to pace the front porch.
“We didn’t,” I say softly. “We had drunken sex.”
“You love me!” She rants.
“Not in the way you want me to,” I admit not for the first time.
She stops pacing and glares at me. “You used me.”
I hang my head. “And I’m sorry.” There’s no sense in pointing out that she arranged each and every one of our encounters. I’m man enough to admit my wrongdoing; pointing hers out will serve no purpose, especially considering her level of agitation.
“You need to let her go,” she spits. “She doesn’t love you. She never did.”