Well, my pregnancy will be apparent soon enough, I thought. No reason to hide the truth about that at least.
I rang the doorbell, trying to figure out how I was going to phrase my request. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts, I didn’t hear anyone coming to the door. Unexpectedly, it opened. I opened my mouth, ready to explain to Trish what I needed, but I was swiftly silenced when I saw who had opened the door.
Chapter Nine
A man, a few years older than me, stood on the threshold. He had the most gorgeous green eyes I had ever seen. I wondered if it was his natural color or if he was wearing colored contacts. His dark hair was so short as to be nearly shaved. Muscles bulged against the sleeves of his t-shirt.
“Can I help you?” he asked, smiling.
As I gazed at his handsome face, I had nearly forgotten why I had come over. Greta tugged against her leash, wanting to check out the new human.
“Marcus, who’s at the door?” a woman’s voice called.
Marcus turned toward the woman, who stepped into the doorway.
“Kate,” Trish said. “Hello.”
When I saw Trish, I finally found my voice. “Hi.”
“Marcus, this is our new neighbor, Kate.”
He gave a curt nod in my direction.
“Kate, this is my son, Marcus.”
“Hi,” I said again, captivated by his eyes.
“He’s in the marines and just got home today. We hadn’t been expecting him for a while so it was a wonderful surprise.” She put her arm around his waist, the top of her head just reaching his shoulder. “And we’re so glad he’s back.”
When Trish had come over to introduce herself and she and I had chatted, we’d never gotten to the part where she had a handsome son.
“What brings you over, Kate?” Trish asked.
Suddenly realizing I was interrupting a family reunion, I didn’t want to tell her why I’d come. “It’s nothing. It can wait.”
“Nonsense,” she said in a friendly way. “You obviously came here for a reason. Now what was it?”
Feeling awkward, I tried to make light of what I needed. “Well, it’s just that I bought something and I needed some help carrying it into the house. But it can wait. I was going to see if your husband could help me when he has some time.”
“Bill is actually out of town for the next week, but Marcus can help you, right son?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smiling.
For some reason, I was reluctant to accept his offer of help. It’s true that I found him attractive, but I had zero interest in getting involved with anyone. Plus, there was the minor fact that I was still married.
But what does any of that have to do with allowing him to help me bring in the crib, I thought.
I was confused and didn’t understand my feelings. But I did know I couldn’t drag the crib into the house by myself and it was highly unlikely that I could put it together myself either. Trish and Marcus were looking at me, waiting for my answer. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Marcus stepped onto the porch, putting Greta into a frenzy. She jumped against his leg, trying to get a good sniff. I pulled on her leash. “Greta, no!” As usual, she ignored me, but fortunately I was still stronger than her and was able to pull her back.
Marcus knelt down and let her smell his hand. “Is that better?” he asked her. She happily licked his hand, apparently accepting him.
“Nice dog,” he said, looking up at me.
“Thanks. I just got her last week.”
He nodded, then stood. “You ready to get started?”
I really wasn’t. I would have preferred someone safe, like Trish’s husband, but it didn’t seem I had a choice at this point. “Sure.” I started walking down the driveway and he fell into step beside me. He was about a head taller than me, I noticed.
“So, what’s this thing you need help brining in your house?”
It was a good thing I was looking in front of me. If Marcus had seen my face, I’m sure I would have looked like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights. Since he had just gotten home, I seriously doubted Trish had told him anything about me. Plus I didn’t know if she was even aware of my pregnancy. “You’ll see,” I hedged.
He laughed. “Okay.”
We had to stop a few times as Greta paused. It seemed there was no forcing her to move if she didn’t want to.
“So, your mom said you just got home,” I started, trying to be friendly. “Where were you before?”
“I’ve been stationed in Afghanistan for the last two years.”
“Oh. How was it there?”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him look at me.
“It’s pretty rough over there. It’s nice to be home.”
I glanced at him and nodded.
We finally reached the gravel drive that led to my house and turned up the road. In moments we stood next to my car. I pointed to the large box in the back seat.
“So this is the mystery item,” he said, reaching for the door. He pulled it open and grabbed the box, sliding it out the door. Once it was out of the car and sitting on the driveway, the word ‘crib’ was plainly visible.
I saw him look at it, but he made no comment.
“Where would you like it?”
“I’ll show you.” I walked to the front door, fished the key out of my pocket and turned the lock. I held the door open for him as he easily carried the box into the living room. I closed the door and pointed to the stairs. “This way.” He followed me up the stairs and into the baby’s room. “You can just set it over there,” I said, pointing to a wall.
He set it down, careful to not damage the wall. “Smells like you painted recently.”
“Yes.” I had never been very good at small talk and this was no exception.
“Do you need help with anything else?”
I really wanted to ask him to put the crib together, but I knew I wouldn’t need it for months and I wasn’t ready to explain my situation. Maybe I could have Trish’s husband Bill do it when he got back from his business trip. “No, I think that will do it. Thanks for your help.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He headed out the bedroom door and down the stairs.
When he opened the front door, he paused and turned toward me. I noticed his eyes flicker to my stomach, but I knew it was impossible to tell I was pregnant just by looking. I looked at him, waiting for him to say what was on his mind.
“Never mind.” He shook his head. “Take care,” he said instead.
“You too.” I locked the door behind him, then went to the front window and watched him walk toward the street that ran in front of our houses.
I pulled out my laptop and brought up my email account. I had been checking my emails daily. Trevor had sent a few more emails, each getting progressively angrier, but I had resisted the urge to respond. I’d also been checking the Reno newspaper every day to watch for any information about Trevor’s arrest. So far there had been no mention of anything and I wondered if the charges had been dropped or a plea deal made.
Alyssa, my friend from Reno, had emailed me back, but she was still at her parents’ house. Though I really wanted to give her all the details of my new life, I hadn’t told her where I’d moved, only that I had left. It saddened me that I couldn’t tell my friend more. Alyssa was the only person I really had a connection with who knew the truth about my life.
As I thought about my safety, I wondered if it might be best if I were to just reinvent myself and put my past behind me. I knew I couldn’t cut Alyssa out completely, but I had to minimize my contact. I had to think of my safety and the safety of my baby.
The first thing I wanted to do was sell Dad’s house. The idea had been hovering in the back of my mind for the last couple of weeks, but now it had pushed itself forward and I knew it was best. That night was Greta’s second dog obedience class and the next night I had my second self-defense class. I would leave early in the morning the day after my class.
C
hapter Ten
I went to Greta’s obedience class that night and learned some techniques to use with her. Billi was there with Chloe. We were both busy with our dogs and didn’t have a chance to do more than say hello. The next night I went to my second self-defense lesson. This time when Steve had me practice what I’d been taught, I responded with confidence. Throughout the previous week I’d practiced some of the movements and also visualized myself using them, which seemed to help.
Early the following morning I loaded a suitcase with the items I thought I’d need, filled a container of dog food, grabbed Greta’s pet bed, then strapped Greta into the passenger seat with the special doggie seatbelt I’d bought. She didn’t seem to mind being restrained and this way she wouldn’t get in my way while I drove or get hurt if I had to stop suddenly.
It took half the day to reach Reno, mostly because I had to stop a few times to give Greta breaks. As we passed through Reno I thought about Trevor and wondered what he was doing. Though I knew it was unlikely Trevor would see me, I couldn’t help but watch the cars around me, fearful that he would somehow know I was in town and find me.
I pushed him out of my mind and drove on to Lovelock. When I arrived at my house I was ready for a break and happy to have gotten there. Everything looked as I remembered it. I took Greta inside and she went to work thoroughly exploring. I brought in our belongings and sat on the couch. A plume of dust filled the air, making me cough.
As I looked around, I could see it would be a big job to get the place ready to sell. I had left minimal utilities on - I hadn’t wanted the pipes to freeze - but there was no Internet access here. I found the phone book and searched for a cleaning service. Using my cell phone, I arranged to have someone come out the next afternoon and do a thorough cleaning.
My next task was to decide what to do with the furniture and Dad’s belongings. Fortunately I had already packed up most of the house in the few months between Dad’s passing and me heading off to the University in Reno. Walking around the house and looking at the furniture, I realized it was mostly old and not in the best condition. Money had been tight and decorating the house hadn’t been high on Dad’s priority list.
I thought about Mary and her generosity in giving me the furniture that was now in my house. I thought it might be nice if I could do the same for someone else. Grabbing the yellow pages again, I looked up a charity that advertised their willingness to pick up goods. When I called, they said they had a cancellation and could come by the next morning. I hoped they would be gone in time for the cleaning people to come over.
With a notepad and pen in hand, I walked to each room, writing down which pieces of furniture to donate and which to have shipped to my place in California. By the time I was done, there were very few items I wanted to keep. I had decided to keep the new television, some linens, and all of the photos.
Next I went out to the garage, where I had stored all the boxes I’d packed up the previous summer. I had been careful to label each box. I divided the boxes into two groups; those that I would keep and those that I would donate. Since I had very little storage space at my California house, I wanted to minimize my “keep” pile.
After working for thirty minutes, I looked over at Greta, who had curled up in a corner of the garage, and smiled. She had been very good while I had worked and I was pleased. Deciding to take a break and reward her, I brought her out back and threw the ball for a while. Then I gave her a good scratch and she seemed to smile with pleasure.
Hunger pangs reminded me it was time for lunch, but there was no food in the house. I needed to go to the grocery store and buy enough food to sustain me for the few days I’d be here. Debating whether to trust Greta to be left on her own in the house or to take her with me and leave her in the car, I decided to leave her home. I hoped that our little play time had tired her out enough that she would behave. I had brought her pet bed into the house, so I encouraged her to lay on it, then grabbing my purse, I went out the door.
Within thirty minutes I was back and found Greta waiting for my return. It didn’t appear that she had bothered anything. When she saw me, she ran over for some attention. “You’re a good girl,” I said, scratching between her ears. Her tail wagged happily.
After fixing myself lunch, I took the food out back and let Greta spend some time outside while I ate. Fifteen minutes later I called to Greta, “Okay, girl, time to get back to work.” When I opened the door she raced to be the first inside and I patted her as she pushed past me.
I spent the next two hours finalizing my decisions on whether each item in the house would stay or go. By the time all was said and done, I had very little that I wanted to keep. I realized that the things I really wanted were at my apartment in Reno. Things like the kitchen implements that had belonged to my Dad. But I especially wanted my Christmas ornaments. Each one had a special memory associated with it. But they were in Trevor’s possession now.
I wanted them back.
Chapter Eleven
The truck arrived first thing the next morning. I showed the men which items and boxes I wanted to donate and they had them loaded in less than an hour. After they left I walked around the house and couldn’t believe how empty it was. The house just didn’t feel like the same place where I had spent so much time with Dad.
I gathered all the items I wanted to keep into a corner of the living room and fixed myself some lunch. I had decided to leave the refrigerator for whoever bought the house. When I’d gone to the store I’d bought a package of disposable plates and utensils so that I could prepare simple meals without using dishes.
As I ate, I thought about the best way to get the items I was keeping to my new place in California. I knew I couldn’t fit everything in my Honda, so I decided to spend the money to have it all shipped. Because there wasn’t a lot, I hoped the cost would be relatively low. I had kept the yellow pages and found a listing for shipping companies. After calling a few, I found one whose prices were reasonable and I arranged to have them come by the next day to pick up my stuff.
That afternoon the cleaning crew came and spent several hours making the place spotless. I paid them and thanked them for doing such a great job. I thought the walls could use a coat of paint, but decided to put the house on the market as is and see what happened. As I was looking at the now familiar yellow pages for realtors, I ran across an ad for an agent whose name looked familiar. Then I remembered he’d been a friend of Dad’s. I called him and explained who I was and what I wanted to do. He promised to come over as soon as he had a free minute.
A little while later Don Hunter knocked on my door. I put Greta in the back yard so she wouldn’t get in the way and invited Dad’s old friend in.
“Hi, Lily,” he said. “How are you?”
It felt strange to hear someone call me Lily. I had started getting used to going by Kate. “I’m doing fine. Like I said on the phone, I’ve decided to sell Dad’s house. Would you be interested in listing it?”
“Absolutely.”
We discussed the details and set a price, then I signed the paperwork making him my real estate agent. He promised to get the house listed the next day and I gave him my cell number so he could keep me informed.
That night I slept on a sleeping bag I had kept - I had donated my mattress since I already had a bed in California that worked fine - and woke up feeling stiff. Greta had curled up next to me, once again keeping me company and helping me to not feel alone.
The shipping company came later that morning and took care of the items I wanted shipped. Once they had left, there was no reason for me to stay. I packed my suitcase and loaded Greta and our things into my Honda. Before leaving, I went inside one last time and mentally said good-bye. I still had my memories and felt good about putting Lovelock behind me.
It took less than two hours to reach Reno. The more I had thought about the belongings in Trevor’s possession, the more determined I became to retrieve them. I wondered if my key to the apartment would still wo
rk. I had only been gone a few weeks, so it was possible that Trevor hadn’t bothered to change the locks. Technically, the lease for the apartment was under my name, so I had every right to go in and take what belonged to me. The biggest challenge would be doing it without Trevor knowing.
As I entered the outer edges of Reno, I wondered if I should just keep going and forget about getting my belongings back. The thought of running into Trevor nearly paralyzed me. What would he do if he caught me? Would he try to imprison me again? Would I be able to get away? Should I even risk it? It was only stuff anyway. Was it really that important?
When I imagined the upcoming Christmas and pictured my Christmas tree with nothing but store bought ornaments, and imagined my treasured ornaments either displayed on Trevor’s tree, or left in the closet, or worse yet, destroyed, fury overtook my paralysis and I knew I had to at least try to get my belongings. They were meaningless to Trevor but meant everything to me. It just wasn’t right that he should have them.
I decided I would start by driving past Rob’s Auto Body shop. That’s where Trevor had been working when I’d left a few weeks ago. It didn’t take long to get there and I drove slowly by. My purpose in going there was to see if Trevor’s car was parked there. If it was, I would feel pretty safe in going to the apartment and getting my things. But as soon as the shop came into view, it was clear that something was wrong. The large doors for the car bays were all closed and there were no cars in the parking lot. It looked like Rob’s Auto Body shop was closed.
Driving past, I continued on for a few minutes, then pulled into a parking lot and turned off my car, wondering what to do next. Greta looked at me expectantly, so I reached over and patted her. She stood on the seat and began wagging her tail, but the doggie seatbelt kept her from moving around too much. I thought it might be a good idea to go somewhere where she could get out for a few minutes and I could think about my next move. Since I had recently moved from the area, I was familiar with the location of the parks and we drove to the nearest one.
Don't Look Back: sequel to He Loves Me Not (Lily's Story, Book 2) Page 5