Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

by Taylor Sullivan

  I gripped the strap of my bag as we walked toward them. Enormous oak trees framed the path on either side of us, reminding me of the places my mom and I stayed at when I was a child. The area felt majestic in a sense, the gaps in the trees casting bits of filtered light through their huge extending branches. This was the place John had told me stories about. His family cabin. The place he stayed every summer as a child.

  “Why are we here?” I whispered, suddenly quite aware of what I was wearing. When he said comfortable, I took him literally, but now I was about to meet his parents with wild hair, big glasses, and overalls that were two sizes too large. My only saving grace was that unlike his request, I had opted for panties.

  He squeezed my hand, taking his normal long strides that were twice the length of my own. “It’s my mom’s birthday.”

  I hurried my steps to keep up. “Is everyone here?”

  He shook his head. “The others are probably inside.”

  I groaned. “Oh God…”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, they’ll love you.”

  His tone was so amused, so sure of himself that it made me look up. “Why do you think that?”

  He squeezed my hand and pulled me so close our legs brushed. “Because I do.”

  It was a simple statement, said without any speck of humor, and it filled my chest with excitement and guilt at the same time. They were two emotions I never thought would go together, but they did, whirling around, moving toward my stomach and making me sick.

  Soon we were climbing the six steps to the covered porch, and I tried to stuff down all of the feelings. The guilt, my heartache, and especially the nausea. I was almost twelve weeks into my pregnancy, and the whole Internet was in agreement I should be feeling better, but since hearing the news four days ago, my stomach hadn’t felt settled for even a second.

  A woman with dark blond hair was waiting for us at the top of the landing. Her smile was large and bright, and deep creases framed the corners of her light blue eyes. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She took my hands and smiled at me. “My name’s Lucy Eaton. I’m John’s mother.”

  “Tuesday,” I said, having a hard time not withering in a puddle on the floor. For the first time in my life, I could relate to being a mother. And if I were her, I would hate me. I would hate me with every bone in my body. But her eyes were warm and told me she didn’t hate me in the slightest.

  She moved to John next, pulling him into a big hug that showed how close they were. Her tiny frame was completely encompassed by his.

  “Happy Birthday, Mama,” he said.

  She squeezed him tighter, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again. “I’m so glad you made it—and I like her already,” she whispered, though her tone wasn’t hushed enough to be private, and she winked at me, making it obvious she meant for me to overhear.

  She pulled away a moment later, and a cluster of people waited for us on the deck. There were his two sisters, Penny and Margaret, a whole handful of cousins whose names all came so fast I couldn’t catch any of them, their spouses, and six other children. The smallest one was Shelly, who belonged to Penny, and who immediately put a death grip on John’s leg. Her little three-year-old arms didn’t appear to be letting go anytime soon.

  She turned to face me, her face turning in a horrible frown. “Who are you?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

  “I’m Tuesday,” I said softly, meeting her tiny face.

  Her head bobbed up and down with each step as John moved across the deck to the entrance of the house. “She’s my girlfriend, Shell.” He laughed a little and squeezed my hand as if to assure me she didn’t bite.

  Shelly turned her head away with a pout, sniffed loudly, and rubbed her nose on the leg of his jeans. I imagined myself in her situation, faced with another woman honing in on the man I loved. I think I would have felt the same, possibly even down to the nose bit.

  “I thought I was your girlfriend,” she stated after a long pause.

  “You’re my niece, baby girl.”

  “Aaaaand your friend.”

  “Yes. And my friend,” he agreed.

  “Aaaannd a gull.”

  He laughed. “And a girl.”

  She giggled a little and squeezed his leg tighter. “I misseded you, Uncle John.”

  He grinned. “I missed you too, Shelly.”

  Someone pulled open the door, and one by one, we all entered the kitchen. The smell of warm cake and fresh cut strawberries hit my nose, making the already homey feel of the place feel even homier.

  It was then that all my emotions hit me, and I had to turn away slightly to wipe the tears from my eyes. If this had come only a week earlier, I would have been elated… but now, it felt like a sick joke. A dangling carrot to someone who hadn’t eaten for a long time.

  No one seemed to notice me crumbling, not even John, because I was only one person in more than a dozen. I’d just met them, but already I was part of this huge, boisterous family as they laughed and joked with each other in the kitchen.

  Hugs spread from person to person, and I took the time to calm my heart. To breathe and settle in for the next few hours. This was exactly what I’d wanted my whole life. Siblings and cousins, grandparents and grandchildren; I’d dreamt of it all for as long as I could remember, and now I was here. But now there was a baby in my womb, and I knew I could only keep both for today. Because as sad as it was, only the baby would still be in my life tomorrow.

  My hand fell to my belly, under the bib of my overalls so no one could see—I’d already made my choice. I just wished I could feel her, so I knew it was the right one.

  My eyes locked on a pregnant woman who stood at the sink, wiping her hands on a gingham rag. I couldn’t help but be jealous of her because she had everything I wanted. When there was a break in the crowd, they came toward me, the tall brunette extending her hand with a warm smile. “Hi, I’m Katie Johnson, Jake’s wife,” she stated.

  I looked into her eyes then down to her belly and shook my head. “I thought―”

  “We’re out of the danger zone now.” She smiled and rested her hand on her stomach. “The placenta moved up and everything’s good to go. Four more weeks.”

  I nodded, wishing for the hundredth time that things were different. She looked kind, and if things were different, maybe we could have been friends.

  I swallowed back more tears and turned to a petite, blonde women who’d come to stand beside me.

  “Lisa,” she said brightly. “John’s favorite sister.”

  I smiled, my head swimming with all the names I’d learned in the past few minutes. I stuck out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  John came to stand by my side, little Shelly hanging from his arm as he bent over to whisper in my ear. “The guys are all outside. Do you mind if I leave you?”

  My eyes widened and I glanced over at him. He looked so happy, in his element, and I couldn’t stop myself from nodding. “Go ahead.”

  Katie and Lisa both stayed in the kitchen, talking to me as they assembled what had to have been the most mouth-watering strawberry shortcake I’d ever seen in my life. They asked where I was from, how John and I had met, and all the other typical questions that came when you met someone’s family for the first time.

  Katie excused herself to the restroom when they were done, and Lisa gestured to a room on the other side of the house where it was quiet. “Follow me.”

  We passed through the dining room, where older children sat at the large table playing Monopoly, and the smaller children were coloring on the floor. They barely looked up, barely noticed us, and my heart was pounding as if we were climbing a tall mountain.

  I didn’t want to be here. Meeting his family, having them hug me, smile, and wrap me in warmth. I was already in love with John; I didn’t want to fall in love with his family, too.

  We stopped at an oak bar in the living room, and Lisa gestured for me to take a seat as she walked behind it.

  “We have
beer, wine, or I can make you a margarita if you’d prefer.” She took a deep breath. “You’re going to need it. You’ve only met half of them so far.”

  I turned toward the barstool and inwardly cringed. I couldn’t think of a lie, so I just nodded, knowing I would dump it later. “Wine, please.” I sat down, folded my hands in my lap, and smiled. “Can I have some ice water too?”

  She nodded over her shoulder. “Of course.” Then she pulled a bottle from the fridge and twisted the cap before sliding it across the bar. “How was your drive?”

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath before answering. “It was good. Went by quickly.”

  She grinned, taking the corkscrew from the top drawer and opening the wine. “Good.” After pulling the cork from the bottle, she poured chilled chardonnay into two bulbous glasses and passed one to me. She rested her hip on the counter and looked around the large room. Her face transformed into an expression of nostalgia, as she gazed out the large picture windows.

  “We don’t come up here very often anymore.” Her eyes met mine again. “We used to practically live here in the summers. It’s hard to believe they’re going to sell it.”

  I frowned, taking in the room that smelled of cedar and earth. This was the first time I’d been here, but it didn’t feel like it. John had told me about this place. I’d laughed with him over memories of his childhood, and my shoulders slumped at hearing it was for sale. I took a sip of water before turning back to her.

  “Why are you selling it?”

  She shrugged. “Dad’s getting older, doesn’t want to keep up the property anymore.”

  My brows furrowed. I looked out the window again, where I could see John laughing with a group of other men. Old and young, all laughing and joking in a way I’d never seen before. “He told me about this place. He told me about all the trouble he used to get into here.”

  She smiled over the rim of her glass and leaned forward on the bar. “Oh God. John’s full of stories. Which ones did he tell you?”

  I laughed and looked to the large window where a giant oak tree was spreading its branches like a large welcome sign. “He told me about falling out of that tree. About the scar on his chin.” I grinned, even though my insides were crying. I turned around to face her, but her expression wasn’t lighthearted like I’d expected. Like it was only a second ago. It had changed, transforming her features from something happy to something very sad.

  She looked to the door that John had exited through only moments before and cleared her throat. “I’ve never heard him talk about that before.” She met my eyes again, but hers were glassy as if holding back tears. “He doesn’t tell many people about his life before us. In truth, I wasn’t sure he even remembered it.”

  Before us? I frowned, not knowing what she meant.

  “He must really trust you.”

  I looked down, unable to meet her eyes any longer, because her words hit me in the most vulnerable place. “Yeah.” He trusted me, and I was about to break his heart.

  “We’re only a few months apart, John and I―” Her voice was distant as she continued to speak. “He was always so much bigger than me, but I felt like I had to protect him like my baby brother. Because the day he came to us forever changed me. Before that day, I didn’t realize people could be so cruel.”

  She took another long sip of wine before meeting my eyes again. Hers were light blue, almost clear, so much different from John’s. He was adopted. I didn’t know why, but the fact he’d kept such an intimate detail from me made my heart constrict. It broke me.

  “I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I didn’t mean for this to get depressing—it’s just been on my mind a lot with the letter.” She pursed her lips and shook her head again.

  I pulled in a breath, feeling my hands tremble in my lap. “What letter?”

  She held her breath, finally realizing I had no idea what she was talking about. She looked to the window, where John could still be seen smiling and laughing in the group of men, then to me. “I’m sorry—I thought―” She looked down to her hands. “Did John warn you I was the sister with the big mouth?”

  I laughed slightly, more to fill the space than because of humor. “That’s okay… You don’t have to tell me.”

  She nodded, though her eyebrows scrunched and she took a deep breath. She bit her lip then raised her chin to the back door. “Come on.” She came from around the bar. “Grab your drink. I’ll introduce you to everyone on the porch.”

  Chapter TWENTY-NINE

  Tuesday

  I rested my head on John’s shoulder, letting my face bask in the last rays of sunlight before the clouds covered every bit of the blue sky. John’s mother had laid out a half dozen quilts under one of the large oaks, allowing us some time alone for the first time in two hours.

  The afternoon had been filled with stories and laughter, except for my conversation with Lisa. Her words still swarmed in my mind, causing a million questions to linger on my tongue. The thought of anyone hurting him—especially as a young boy—caused my chest to harden with pain.

  His family was amazing, and although I would be gone from his life tomorrow, I knew he had others to take care of him. To take the heart I would crush and make it whole again.

  They told me I was the first girlfriend he’d brought home since high school. And every story, every warm hug or smile that showed how happy they were to have me, made the anxiety in my stomach grow. I tried to stuff it down, to breathe in the crisp, clean air and forget about the baby, but it was impossible. This little life was all I thought about. Every second, every breath, I thought about her, or him, even more. Trying to forget felt like a betrayal to the child I’d already started to love.

  “You okay?” John whispered in my ear. His arms wrapped around my chest as we sat together. I nestled between his legs, my back to his chest as he surrounded me with his body.

  “Yeah,” I sighed, though it couldn’t have been farther from the truth. “Everyone’s been really nice.”

  His lips brushed my ear, and he hugged me tighter. “They better. I’m paying them enough.”

  I laughed slightly and jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow.

  “Easy.” But he pulled me closer, smiling against my cheek. “They love you, just like I said they would.”

  My eyes closed at the words because hearing the words felt like a hot iron poker straight to my stomach. Tears welled behind my lids as I felt him bury his nose in my hair.

  When I opened my eyes a moment later, little Shelly was coming toward us across the lawn. She’d been stuck to John’s side almost the whole afternoon, and now her little limbs picked up speed as she spotted him again. Two feet before the blanket, she flung her arms into the air, causing her tiny body to fly, crash into us, and knock us over.

  “Dare you are!” she said, grabbing hold of his neck. “I’ve been wooking for you everywhere!”

  John laughed, falling back against the blanket. “Did you find the treasure?” he asked her.

  She scrunched up her nose and frowned as she squeezed in between us to take a seat on top of his chest.

  “No.” She pulled a crumpled up piece of paper from her pocket, taking extra care to unfold it just so.

  Various lines were drawn upon it: a few squiggles, something that looked like a bush, and a stick figure house drawn in the very center. She leaned down, examining the paper with intense concentration. “Are you sure there’s treasure there?” Her chubby finger pointed to the X in the far corner.

  John folded his hands behind his head and grinned. “Course I am.” Then he lifted his head and pointed to his ear. “See that hole there?”

  Shelly came in closer, taking his lobe between her chubby fingers. “Yes, I see it.”

  “That’s from back in my pirating days.” He nodded once.

  Her eyes widened. “Did you get shot?”

  He laughed then pinched her nose. “No, silly. It’s from my earring. All pirates wear earring
s. It’s part of the uniform.”

  Her eyes widened and she stretched her legs out in back of her. “Were you really a pirate, Uncle John?”

  “Yep.”

  She folded her hands on his chest and grinned. “Is that where the treasure came from? Is that why you had the map?”

  “Sure is.” He nodded. “I buried it under one of those trees out back.”

  She bunched up her shoulders and suppressed a giggle. “Will you tell me a story? About when you were a pirate?”

  “Don’t you want to find the treasure?”

  “Not yet. I want a story first.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “If I tell you a story, will you run along so I can spend some time with my lady?”

  She looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine for just a second before she turned back to John. “Are you going to kiss her again?” she whispered.

  His brow lifted as he looked at her. “What do you know about kissing?” he whispered back.

  She scrunched her shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Ahhh… Well, I might,” he said, leaning back on the blanket again.

  “Yuck. I’m never going to kiss a boy.”

  He laughed. “That’s good. Boys are gross.” He took a deep breath then closed his eyes. “So you want a pirate story, do ya?”

  She smiled and laid her head on his chest, nestling in. “Yes, but it has to be your best pirate story ever.”

  “No guarantees.” But his face transformed into a content grin, and he started talking.

  The next fifteen minutes were filled with the most elaborate tale I’d ever heard in my whole life. Filled with mermaids, crocodiles, and sword fights, but as the story went on, Shelly’s little body became more and more relaxed, and John’s words slowed, becoming softer and softer until they completely faded.

  I couldn’t help but watch them. How they fit together like two peas in the same pod, and how she’d completely pushed me out of their whole garden. He would make such a good daddy. He didn’t just pay attention to her because she loved him; he loved her too, and I could see that from a mile away, both resting peacefully under the large oak tree.