Plan Cee (Secrets, Lies, and Second Chances Book 2)

by Hilary Grossman

  “No, of course not. They are two or three years old. What would happen if they told their dad about me?”

  “I guess you have a point, although I am not so sure kids so young would be that articulate. Do you ever ask her about them?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Why would I do that?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” She screeched as she buried her head in her hand. “They are her children, Special K. They’re probably the most important two people in the world to her. Why don’t you want to get to know them?”

  Defensively I replied, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”

  “You didn’t say you wanted to either, now did you? Let’s face it, actions speak far louder than words.” She pointed her index finger at me. “And your actions scream I don’t care about them.”

  “But...”

  “It’s not cool, Special K. Don’t get me wrong; I’m pretty sure you’re right, she probably wouldn’t feel comfortable having them pal around with you. After all, since you know, she’s married. But maybe the simple fact you’ve shown no interest in them annoyed her and that is why she is blowing you off.”

  “You think it’s possible?”

  “Well, it sure as hell would annoy me if I was her.”

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  “One more question, dear uncle. How do you feel about them? Do you want to get to know them? Do you want to be part of their life? What would happen if things worked out between you two? Would you want to be their stepfather?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CECELIA

  “Good morning!” Mary called out to me, in a singsong voice, as soon as I arrived at work. I purposely came in through the side entrance because I wanted to avoid the front desk where she sat. I wasn’t in the mood for her perky, sunny disposition today. Of course, as my luck would have it, she was in the hallway on her way to the conference room, carrying a tray of coffee and tea.

  “Hey,” I muttered, keeping my head down as I continued walking. I hoped she’d get the hint I wasn’t in the mood to chat.

  “Hmm, someone sure has a case of the Mondays,” she smirked. “Did you have a good weekend?”

  I stopped walking. I smiled wide and lied, “It was awesome! Hope yours was too.” Without giving her a chance to comment I added, “Mare, sorry,” I pointed to my watch, “I’ve got to get to it.”

  I walked swiftly down the corridor. Usually, especially on Monday’s, I made a point of greeting all my team’s members. I liked to check in with them both personally and professionally. But today, I just didn’t have the patience. All I managed to do was nod my head at them, in a lame attempt at acknowledgment.

  As soon as I entered my office, I closed the door. I wanted to be alone. And I desperately wanted to dive into my to-do list. I hoped if I worked hard enough, somehow I would be able to stop thinking about the mess I made of my life.

  As I started up my computer, my phone beeped alerting me to a new text message. Instinctively I reached for it, but stopped myself. I closed my eyes, “Please be Bryce, please be Bryce,” I whispered in a trance-like prayer.

  True to his word, my husband hasn’t communicated with me since he left the house almost a week ago. His radio silence was making me crazy. I desperately wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice. Every time I tried to call him, he let my calls go to voicemail. He also hadn’t answered any of my texts. Part of me hoped he’d change his mind and drop the boys off this morning at our house. But he stuck to his plan. The babysitter picked the twins up at his office and then drove them home. I was never so disappointed to see Madeline in my life. Fortunately, the boys seemed happy. They had a great weekend. They went to the park and played miniature golf with their dad.

  My weekend, however, was miserable. I alternated being curled up on the couch sobbing my heart out or scrubbing every surface in my already spotless house in a half-hearted attempt to release some of my nervous energy. I also cyber-stalked Anna on Facebook and Instagram to see how her trip was going. I hoped I’d be able to get some insight as to what their decision would be about relocating to Massachusetts. Let’s face it; you can’t take anything you see on Facebook at face value. While it looked like the O’Conner’s were having a blast, the pictures only portrayed a family vacation, not a possible life-changing event.

  I really missed her. I haven’t spoken to her since our fight. I must have picked up my phone at least thirty times over the last few days, wanting to reach out to her. Except for a text I’d sent late Saturday night that simply said, “I love you,” I didn’t communicate with her at all. She had enough going on. She didn’t need me stressing her out further. It really was a relief when I woke up Sunday morning and saw she replied, “Right back at ya!” I was hopeful I didn’t ruin our friendship beyond repair.

  My phone beeped again with yet another text. This time I picked it up and frowned as I read the last two messages.

  Keith: Hey doll! It’s going to be a scorcher this afternoon. Good thing you know a handsome guy who is living by the beach. Come over. Cool down…or maybe heat up!

  Keith: Cee – What’s going on? Are you avoiding me? Did I upset you? Talk to me. I miss you.

  Life was ironic. For so many years, all I wanted was for Keith to want me again, to chase me. My dream finally became a reality, but look at the cost! I haven’t felt this sad and alone in so many years.

  A part of me wanted nothing more than to drive over to Atlantic Beach and fall back into his arms. I really wanted to forget about real life for a while, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew running to him wasn’t the answer, especially since I wasn’t ready to tell him Bryce found out about us. I knew I had to deal with the situation I put myself in first. I had done so much soul searching this weekend, and I still didn’t have any solid answers. I knew, until I figured everything out, I couldn’t see Keith, it would just complicate things more. But I did owe him a reply, even if it was a lame one.

  Me: Don’t worry - you didn’t do anything. Today’s not good. A lot going on... Talk soon.

  “Excuse me, Cecelia?” Mary’s perky voice interrupted my thoughts. “I have Clarence Mitchel’s assistant on the line for you. She said it’s urgent. Shall I transfer her?”

  “Sure,” I said as I reached for a pad of paper and a pen. So far I have only dealt with the big guy himself. I hoped his assistant would be a little easier to tolerate than he was. As usual, without glancing at the caller ID, on autopilot I announced, “Hi, this is Cecelia Reynolds. How may I assist you?”

  “By not hanging up on me.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. I put my headset on as a tear rolled down my cheek.

  “Cecelia, are you there?” Meri asked softly when I didn’t reply.

  “Yes,” my voice was barely a whisper. I wanted to still be mad at her, but I needed a friend more than I needed my anger to serve as a protective shield against more hurt.

  “Good. You don’t have to say anything. I know how you get when you are upset. You clam up, and you retreat into yourself. Last time we, I guess you could say spoke, you didn’t give me much of a chance to open my mouth. So this time, I’m going to be the one doing the talking. You can just listen. Okay?”

  She didn’t wait for me to reply.

  “I know about your client from hell, because I’ve been speaking to Anna ever since you stopped talking to me. I know you don’t want to believe this—we both have been worried sick about you for a very long time. I know you’re still furious with me for not telling you Keith came looking for you all those years ago. I know now I should have told you. Cee, you’ve got to believe me; I acted the way I did because I wanted to protect you, not because I was jealous. Keith broke your heart so badly. I was there picking up the pieces, remember? You were in so much pain for such a long time. I didn’t trust him to do right by you. Hell, after what Spencer did to me I didn’t trust any man. I didn’t think Keith cared enough about you to really want you back, to fight for you. So I decided to test him
.”

  I reached for a tissue and wiped my eyes.

  “He asked me not to say anything to you about stopping by. He promised me he’d reach out to you again. I wanted to see if he came by again or called you on his own. And when days turned into weeks without so much as a peep from him, I felt I did the right thing. I convinced myself I protected you from more heartache. I know now I was dead wrong, and I’m sorry. It kills me to think I messed with your happiness when all I wanted to do was prevent you from more pain. And speaking of pain,” she paused. “Anna told me about Bryce.”

  I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I started to sob.

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

  I looked up at the ceiling, “I fucked up my life so badly.”

  “Yeah, well you’ve got a bit of a mess on your hands. You’re not in this alone. I’m responsible too. Who knows how things would have turned out if I didn’t try to play God?” Meri took a deep breath. “They say everything in life happens for a reason.”

  “Yeah well they’re stupid,” I muttered.

  “They are. But none of us can go back in time. We can’t undo the things we have done, nor can we do things differently. Every action has a reaction, some obviously better than others. Everything we do, and everything we experience, shapes us into the people we are. You have to stop dwelling on the past. Focus on right now, today. Only worry about tomorrow, and what you want your future to look like. You don’t have to decide anything right away. Take your time and when you figure it all out, know one thing… both Anna and I will be at your side to help. You drive us crazy, but we both love you.”

  “I don’t deserve either one of you.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Are you in town?” I asked, hopeful.

  “No. I’m in Cincinnati. I’ll be back Thursday night, though.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CECELIA

  I threw my uneaten sandwich in the trashcan by the side of my desk and rubbed my head in a futile attempt to ease my tension headache. I don’t know why I thought things with the boys would have been easier. The twins had a major meltdown this morning when Madeline arrived. Donovan was especially upset. He clung to my leg so tightly as he sobbed. He gave me black and blue marks. I guess it should be expected. It’s been a week and a half since Bryce left the house. And while he did spend the weekend, as well as Tuesday night with them, they were missing their dad badly. They are only three; if I can’t fully grasp what is happening how can I expect them to?

  I almost didn’t come to work today. It killed me to see them so sad and upset, but Madeline urged me to leave. She told me she thought keeping their routine as normal as possible would help them cope. Fortunately, based on our call a few minutes ago she was right, again. Miraculously, after I left, she managed to calm them down. While the storm may have passed, in my heart I knew it was only a temporary fix. My heart ached for my boys. I wanted things to be so different for them. And what did I do? I basically put them in the same predicament I was in when I was a child.

  “Cecelia?” Mary buzzed me. “I have a Delanie Donovan on the phone for you. When I asked where she was calling from she said it was personal. She’s probably a solicitor? Should I just put her into your voicemail?”

  I swallowed hard. “Did you say Delanie Donovan?”

  “Yes. Do you know her?”

  “I think so.”

  “Shall I transfer her then?”

  “Yes. Just give me a minute first, okay?”

  I got up and closed my office door before I placed my headset on my ear. I took three deep breaths and exhaled slowly, the way, I think, they taught in the one yoga class Anna dragged me to. Instead of them helping to calm me down they made me feel lightheaded and nauseous. If this was who I thought it was, why in the world was she calling me?

  “Hello, this is Cecelia,” I said in my most businesslike tone.

  “Um. Hi. I’m… Wow,” she sounded so nervous and so grown up. “This is harder than I thought it would be. I’m not sure I even have the right number.”

  I impatiently tapped my fingers on my desk. “I think you do.”

  “Oh, okay. So social media apparently is much better at tracking people down than I thought it would be. I didn’t expect it was going to be so easy to find your office phone number since you aren’t on LinkedIn. I guess you recognize my name.”

  “Yes.” I said, simply. How could I not? I was shocked she knew I existed, yet alone knew my name well enough to look for me. After all, the one and only time I met her she was three and a half years old, at most. I can still see her sitting on a swing in the park, bundled up in a lime green parka as her dark brown pigtails flopped in the breeze. She had a huge smile on her face—her laugh was infectious. Her beaming father pushed her higher and higher. He was laughing as well. I, on the other hand, a little more than triple her age, sat on the ground off to the side, ignored. I attempted to distract myself from staring at the happy pair by braiding several pieces of grass together.

  She took a deep breath, “So yeah, I’m your half sister.”

  I was determined to keep any emotion out of my voice, “I know, we met once.”

  “We did?” She sounded shocked. “Jeez. Sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to remember. It was only once, and you were very young. So why are you calling me, now?”

  There was a pregnant pause, “It’s my dad.” She sighed, “Our dad, he…”

  I cut her off, “You had it right the first time. He was your dad. He wasn’t mine. I didn’t have a father. I had a glorified sperm donor.”

  “Oh no, Cecelia,” she tried to reassure me. “Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

  “Delanie, listen. I don’t want to hear you defend him. I’m sure you had a wonderful life with him, I did see you two together once, and the love he had for you was crystal clear. I’m happy you had a great childhood with a doting father, really I am. But Jack Donovan was nothing to me. He made it crystal clear he never wanted me in his life. He didn’t give a crap about my life. So please, don’t insult my intelligence. Just cut to the chase so that I can get back to work. Tell me, why after over thirty something years are you calling me now?”

  She exhaled slowly, “Because he died.”

  “What?” I asked as my hands turned ice cold, and my mouth went dry.

  “He passed away two weeks ago after a battle with cancer. I took care of him at the end. You were right. He was a wonderful father to me,” her voice cracked. “I was lucky to have had him in my life. He was a good man. He made a lot of mistakes, and he knew it. He owned up to them at the end, although it was too late to make amends. He kept telling me over and over how much he regretted not being part of your life.”

  “Yeah, right,” I muttered, as if on autopilot.

  “He had a box of pictures of you from when you were little.” She paused, “It’s amazing. Except for the color of our hair, we really looked practically identical as children.”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s what was the most painful part of my day in the park with you two.” I looked up at the ceiling, and expressed the excruciating truth that has haunted me for most of my life. “I kept thinking if only you and I looked different, maybe then I would be able to understand why he loved you and not me.”

  “He did love you.” she fired back, not missing a beat. “He just never showed his emotions. He couldn’t.”

  I couldn’t decide if I was glad or disappointed she wasn’t able to see me roll my eyes.

  “Like I said, Dad knew he screwed up, a lot. I know talk is cheap. Nothing I am going to say is going to make your childhood any better. Nor is it going to erase the sadness and hurt I am sure you have been walking around with since he left you and your mother. I think you need to know when the end was near; all he spoke about, nonstop, was you. He made me put up your childhood pictures around his bed, and on all the walls. He died clutching a picture of you from your fourth birth
day party. You were wearing a magenta dress and were about to blow out the candles on your Raggedy Ann cake. Know the picture?”

  How could I not? He left only a few months after my birthday. I had kept a copy of the picture framed by my bed for years after he walked out of my life. I used to fall asleep holding it tightly as I prayed he’d come back home and love me again. I had thrown it away right after I returned home from my outing in the park with Delanie when I realized my dream would never be a reality.

  Delanie interrupted my thoughts, “I’m guessing from your silence, you know the picture. So you know I’m telling you the truth. He begged me to find you after he was gone. He wanted me to tell you he was sorry for everything he never did for you, and he wanted you to know, that he did really love you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CECELIA

  It was really hard to mourn someone you never had a relationship with. Even though I didn’t know Jack Donovan, I couldn’t deny it. He was still my father, and now he was gone. Any hope I ever had to get to know him was over. The sadness I felt, about everything, was beyond intense. My usual methods of ignoring and shutting myself off weren’t helping me. In my heart, I knew couldn’t do it alone anymore. I needed a friend. I needed someone to talk to. I yearned for someone who would be able to offer me some sort of advice. I had to sort out all the thoughts and feelings haunting my heart and mind.

  I didn’t want to trouble Anna on the last day of her Boston trip. It wouldn’t have been right to interrupt her final time with her family as they were in the midst of contemplating such a life-changing event, especially now, right after our fight. Thanks to her persistence, I knew Meri would speak with me. But today was her travel day home from Cincinnati. From experience, I knew what today would be like for her. She’d have her day crammed with meetings, leaving only a small window of time for her to make a mad dash to the airport. She’d practically miss her flight, but miraculously manage to be the last person to board right before the flight attendants made the final boarding announcement.