Undefinable

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Undefinable Page 14

by Renea Porter


  “Well, we’re here,” Mom says, excited.

  “Do you mind if we just take a cab? I don’t want to tell Cash just yet.”

  “Nope,” she replies as we make our way to baggage claim, while I make a phone call for a cab.

  We gather our things and wait out front for the cab. Ten minutes later we are inside the cab and on our way home. The snow is covering the ground and the landscape of Boston looks picturesque. Oh how I missed the snow. I love winter wearing sweaters and now having the comfort of heat in my apartment.

  “Do you think he’ll be surprised?”

  “I think so. I’m excited for you,” Mom says.

  “I’m nervous as hell,” I admit.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  The cab pulls up to our apartment complex and I pay him as we quickly unload our belongings, then head up to my apartment. I throw my suitcase on the bed and catch my mom in the living room making hot chocolate.

  “Want some?”

  “No; I’m actually going to go for a walk just to take a breather from all the nervousness then I might see Cash when I come back.”

  “If I don’t see you the rest of the night, I’ll know where you’ll be,” she confirms with a wink.

  I smile and hug her tight before walking out the door. I stuff my hands in my coat pockets, and have my scarf wrapped around my neck and slip my calf length boots on to manage my way through the snow.

  I walk and walk breathing in the cold fresh crisp air. Not realizing how far I am walking, I walk by some shops and then something causes me to stop in my tracks, and I freeze at the sight. Peeking inside the coffee shop, I spot Cash and Bianca. I feel like I may throw up. Oh god. They are laughing and he’s reaching across the table holding her hand. Bianca throws her head back and laughs at something he says and it kills me.

  I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut and it’s much worse than any fight I’ve ever been in. I can’t watch anymore, and I can’t get out of here fast enough. Holding my stomach, the physicality of seeing them like that, happy, is enough to send me over the brink. Around the corner, I lean over while feeling like I might throw up, but nothing comes up.

  Tears stream down my face as I walk back toward the direction I came. Why did I come back? Why didn’t he tell me? Why the hell did he string me along?

  I continue cursing myself until I make it to my apartment. As soon as I enter, Mom sees how upset I am.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  I’m numb from the hurt and the freezing cold I came out of. I stare off into the distance and look at her.

  “He’s with someone. I saw him. They were at a coffee shop not far from the gym and they were laughing like they were a couple,” I say with disgust.

  “Why did I think coming back would change things? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  “Who was he with?” my mom asks.

  “The mother of his child I presume. He would never answer me about the paternity test, but now that’s all I need to see.” Tears stream down my face. The cry is uncontrollable. I physically hurt, and my body and soul are shattered.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” she says. She wraps an arm around me and helps move me to the couch where we sit as she consoles me. I don’t know what to do, and she can’t say anything to make this better. I’m crushed.

  “Why don’t you rest and I’ll make you some hot cocoa and get you some crackers? You need to eat, Cheyanne. It’s been too long since you last ate.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I say, my voice stoic.

  Mom moves and goes to the kitchen, anyway. Since nothing can be said to make this better, I guess she thinks food will. But the thought of food disgusts me as much as seeing Cash with Bianca. I thought he loved me. It was all lies.

  “Here, drink some and eat a few crackers. It’ll settle your stomach.” She pushes the plate to me.

  Knowing arguing about crackers is so miniscule, I satisfy her and eat a few very slowly. Standing up, I cup my hot chocolate to warm my hands. “Thanks Mom. I think I might go lie down for a bit.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Yes. I just need to think or try to forget this day; it’s the worst.”

  I numbly walk to my room, take a sip of the cocoa, and set it down. Looking around, the memories of Cash being here flood my mind and my knees hit the floor. The tears flow and my stomach clenches.

  Mom must have heard the hard hit, because the next thing I know she is on the ground with me, with her arm wrapped tight around me. The urge to scream out overwhelms me, but I resist since the neighbors could hear and I don’t need the cops called, thinking someone was murdered.

  The pain is too much. “Come on; let me get you to bed.” Mom lifts me up.

  I barely make it to the bed, but I do it and curl into a ball while Mom holds me while I cry myself to sleep. She pulls my hair back and kisses my cheek.

  I pray that this is some sort of nightmare, my worst nightmare.

  Sometime during the night, I wake up, alone on my bed. I pad to the bathroom to clean my face, feeling all cried out. Now I’m just numb to my feelings. I’ll never let anyone in; it hurts too much when they leave, and they always leave and lie straight to your face.

  Anger is setting in and this could be a dangerous thing. I want to punch something or someone. Back in my room I put my clean clothes away and wash the dirty ones. Pulling the curtains back, I look out into the darkness, and try to think of something happy, but Cash has been my happy. And I’m not sure I’ll be getting my happy back. The moon shines brightly into my room as I let the thoughts run through my mind.

  If I concentrate real hard, and close my eyes, I can still smell him in my room, his woodsy cologne. The cologne turned me on, more times than I could count. I love to smell cologne on a man.

  Looking at the clock, it reads five a.m. and I am betting I won’t be getting any sleep. But I decided to lie down, anyway, just in case I could fall asleep. I just wanted to wake up in Cash’s arms and I knew that wouldn’t be the case.

  I have the appointment at the bank tomorrow, and then I am meeting the realtor at the warehouse after. That is the one thing I am looking forward to. Now I just had to pray that I’ll get the loan I will need to start it up. It is my dream, to help troubled kids, give them an outlet.

  ***

  Morning breaks through my curtains, sending in a chill over me and I struggle to get out from under my comforter. I swing my feet over the edge and make my way to shower.

  After showering, I throw my hair into a ponytail, deciding to look more business-like. I slip into a long skirt, and a long sweater, and pair the outfit with ankle boots. I lightly brush my face with some makeup and my usual red lipstick. I meet Mom in the kitchen as I smell the muffins baking throughout the apartment and it smells like heaven. Blueberry is my ultimate favorite.

  “Morning Honey, I’m baking your favorite.” She offers a smile as I enter, sitting on the stool along the island.

  “Morning. I can never pass up a blueberry muffin.” I watch as she moves around the kitchen, waiting for the muffins to be done.

  “You look really nice in that outfit, Cheyanne. You should wear skirts and dresses more often,” she suggests. “Are you going to see Cash today?”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him. I’m half tempted to march down to his apartment and slap him, but I doubt it would make me feel better.”

  “Probably not.”

  “But I am headed to the bank and then the warehouse as soon as I have one of those,” I point as she pulls out the muffins.

  She pours me a glass of milk to pair with the muffin and I am in food heaven. She sits next to me and nudged my shoulder with hers.

  “I hope you get the gym.”

  “Me too.”

  A hard lump forms in my throat as I head out the door. I am anxious about applying for a loan and the possibility of running into Cash, but sometimes it’s just unavoidable. Because running into Cash is exactly
what I did and I panicked.

  “Cheyanne, when did you get back?”

  I nervously adjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder.

  “I, uh, got back yesterday. Sorry I’m, uh, going to be late for an appointment.” I have to get away from his presence.

  I can’t breathe, as the air feels like it is being sucked right out of me. I walk the rest of the way down the stairwell. I hear him calling for me, but I kept going until I make it to my car as I quickly sweep the snow off. Inside the car, I grip the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths. After a few seconds of deep breathing, I make my way to the bank.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  CASH

  What the fuck just happened? Cheyanne is back and she just left me here dumbfounded and confused as hell. I am heading up the stairs to check on her apartment; like I did every other day just to make sure everything was okay. And I had heard commotion last night, thinking someone else was in her apartment.

  I shake my head and continue to make my way up, figuring maybe Candice; can shed some light on what just happened. Because that wasn’t the Cheyanne I knew. The Cheyanne I knew would have stopped, hugged, and greeted me with excitement. And that was anything but. I knock on the door and patiently wait with a knot in my stomach.

  Candice opens the door and lets me step inside.

  “Cash,” she greets. Her tone is stoic.

  “Candice, what is going on? I just saw Cheyanne in the hall and she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  “Come on, Cash; you can’t be completely dense,” she half teases. “She saw you yesterday at the coffee shop with that Bianca chick. And she said you two looked pretty cozy.”

  Fuck!

  “You hurt my baby girl really bad and my hand is itching to slap you. But I assume you have an explanation,” she admits.

  “May I sit?”

  She nods, and she sits on the couch while I take the chair, keeping myself a safe distance away from her in case she decides to slap me after all.

  “What Cheyanne saw was not what it looked like. I assume you know about the DNA test I took, to see if I was the father of Bianca’s baby. I found out I was and it took me a while to come to grips with it and I was prepared to take care of my responsibility.”

  “Before you go on, would you like something to drink?”

  “Oh no, I’m fine. Candice, I love your daughter. I have never doubted my love for her or her love for me. And I haven’t been with anyone since she left. But I was going through something, something that’s hard for me to grasp. Bianca lost the baby.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Cash.”

  “Thank you. And long story short, Bianca had a rough few days after and all I was doing was being a friend to her, trying to cheer her up. That’s it. There is nothing between us; she’ll even tell you that. Like I said, it’s just a big misunderstanding. Ms. Candice, I would never hurt your daughter intentionally.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. Come here and let me hug you.” She blinks back her tears.

  I stand and hug her. She smiles bright.

  “I guess I can forgive you. Hopefully my daughter will listen to you,” she adds. “I thought she was going to lose it last night when she came in. She broke down and it broke my heart because I could always see how much you loved and cared for her. Please don’t hurt my baby; she doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I know she doesn’t and I promise to make this right. Even if it takes forever. I was even planning to come to Las Vegas, but I was holding off until Valentine’s Day. ”

  Candice helps me devise my plan to win Cheyanne back and it’s very mischievous. Being New Year’s Eve, I want to make it special. I feel hopeful Cheyanne will forgive me because I know I wanted her in my life forever, together, always.

  “Were you really coming to Las Vegas?” she asked curiously.

  “I was. I was coming to ask your daughter to marry me. It physically hurt with her being so far away from me. I never want to feel that way again.”

  “Cash…” her eyes well up with tears again, and this time they spill over.

  “Does this mean I have your permission if I ask her?”

  “Yes, you do. I’m so happy.” She wipes her eyes and hugs me again.

  “Well, I better get out of here before she walks in, and sees us sitting here. But I’ll see you later. Don’t forget about the plan.” I point to her on my way out.

  “I won’t, but you better go.” She is almost shoving me out the door.

  Cheyanne

  While the loan is being processed, I meet the realtor at the warehouse that I am looking at for the gym. Walking inside with the realtor, Erica, the space is very open with beams lining the ceiling. It is perfect and I can design it how I want. I walk around taking it all in. An office would have to be built in so paperwork could be done on the premises.

  “I definitely want it, if I get the loan. I should know in a few days if I am approved. Is anyone else looking at this space?”

  “No, just you. I’m sure you won’t have any issues and it’ll be here.”

  “Great.”

  I bid the realtor goodbye and make my way home. Inside the apartment, I shake off my coat and greet Mom.

  “How’d it go?” she asks.

  I pour myself a mug of coffee. “Great. I think I should hear something after the holiday. I went to the warehouse and checked it out and it’s definitely promising.”

  “That’s exciting,” she says cheerfully.

  The cup of coffee warms my hands immediately as I hold it. I move to sit in the chair by my mom and Cash’s aroma overwhelms me like he was here or something. I inhale deeply. I shake the thought out of my head because I must be crazy.

  “So how are you doing? I haven’t asked in a few days,” I ask Mom.

  “Great, you don’t need to worry about me, Sweetie. I made an appointment with the doctor and then I have a NA meeting the day after tomorrow. Think you can drive me?”

  “Of course. Thank you for being here for me, the last few months, and especially yesterday. That was rough.”

  “I’m glad I could be there for you. I wish I could have been a better mom for you growing up. It hurts my heart knowing I missed so much of your life. I’m just happy that you let me in and I can be a part of your life,” she confesses.

  “Want to go with me to the tattoo shop? I have this overwhelming urge to get one,” I say.

  “Yes; let me grab my coat.”

  In the car, we head to the tattoo shop just down the street. I had passed it on many occasions, wanting to step inside to get something. But I could never think of something meaningful enough. “Perhaps you want a matching one?” I ask mom.

  “What are you getting?”

  “I was thinking about getting a small heart on my wrist, just something small to start out.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. I’m definitely game.”

  Walking in the tattoo shop causes my nerves to flare up since I’d never gotten one before.

  “May I help you?” the counter girl asks.

  “My mom and I want to get a small tattoo.”

  “Sure, come on back. Chad will assist you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chad introduces himself to us, and I notice he is covered in tattoos and is pretty hot.

  I try my best not to trip over my words. “I’m Cheyanne and this is my mom, Candice,” I gesture.

  “Great. Just give me a second to get my station ready. Have a seat. What kind of tattoo do you want to get?”

  “I want a small heart on my wrist. Just something small, since it’s my first one.” I smile. “And I think my mom is getting the same.”

  Mom nods her head.

  He pulls on tight black gloves and situates my hand so he can do his thing to it. “I’m just going to start with the outline and you let me know if you are okay.”

  I nod. The buzzing of the needle starts and it hurts, but not bad enough that I want him to stop, so I reach for my mom�
�s hand and squeeze.

  “Does it hurt?” Mom asks.

  “A little. More like a constant bee sting,” I say.

  “Do you want me to color it in?” Chad asks.

  “Yes.”

  Ten minutes later, I have a cute heart on my wrist. Mom and I switch seats as Chad preps his station again.

  “I’m nervous,” she says.

  “You’ll be fine. If I can handle it, you can.”

  “Ready?” Chad asks.

  Mom nods and I reach over for her to grip my hand. She winces as he does the outline and tells him to color it in. My heart is red and hers is blue.

  “Thanks again,” I say after paying for our tattoos.

  Both our wrists are wrapped in plastic and we have cleaning instructions in tow. We head back to the apartment. “That was fun, and maybe it’s a start to a new year together,” I tell mom as we enter the apartment.

  “It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I’m glad we did it and that we have something matching to symbol our new found relationship,” Mom says.

  We putter around the apartment and I have already pulled my hair up in a messy bun and am ready to watch the New Year’s countdown even though I’ll be thinking about Cash. He still consumes my mind.

  In my room, I see my dress I recently bought laid out on my bed. It’s the pink and silver one and I’m confused.

  “Why’s my party dress lying out on my bed?” I ask Mom.

  She smiles. “Put it on. Don’t ask questions.”

  I shrug my shoulders and decide to enlighten her, and then there is a knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it, and you just get ready,” she instructs.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Mom quickly answers the door and whoever it is, I can only hear their whispers. Hurriedly, I throw on my dress. Taking my hair down, I pull it to the side, loosely braiding it. I slip my feet into a pair of silver heels and put my makeup on, then finish the look with my red lipstick. But I look ridiculous with my wrist wrapped while I am in fancy clothing.

  Curiosity plagues me as I make my way to the living room. As soon as I spot him, my breath catches. Cash is standing there sporting a dark suit and flowers in his hand. When he sees me, he shakes his head as he is speechless as he takes a deep breath.

 

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