It didn’t help that Dad was sitting on the other edge of the couch, stiff-necked. He was trying really hard to be supportive, but every time his eyes skimmed her belly you could see a flash of disappointed sickness spear him.
I wished I could fix it, but I’d run out of words.
“So, tell me about work.” Grandma Deb pulled me back into the kitchen, handing me a knife and two Lebanese cucumbers. Of all the people on this earth, she understood me the best. I could tell by the twinkle in her eye that she was forcing me out of my disheartening situation by making me busy. She reminded me a little of Gloria Jackson. My heart squeezed as I pictured Sean’s mom bustling around the kitchen, her nonstop chatter filling the air. Would I ever get to see her again?
“Morgan, honey?”
I looked up from the chopping board.
“How’s work?”
“It’s okay.” I sliced the ends off the cucumbers and shrugged. “I’m the receptionist so I answer the phone a lot and you know, do receptionist stuff.”
“And you’re enjoying it?”
“I guess. My boss is really nice, warm, friendly...happy, so that helps.” I snickered.
“You deserve a good boss after that nutcase. I can’t believe you lasted for as long as you did.”
“It wasn’t him keeping me there, Grandma.”
Her head tipped to the side, her smile taking on a loving quality that I couldn’t look at.
I kept my eyes on the cucumbers, trying to slice them slowly and carefully. I usually chopped as quickly and efficiently as I could, but not today. I needed to keep my hands busy or I’d go insane.
“Things going okay at home?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
She chuckled. “You’ll survive this. You always do.” She patted my arm with her soft hands and turned back to the sink.
Thankfully she didn’t say more after that, and we got busy preparing lunch for the family. It was her sixty-eighth birthday today. I knew she always missed Grandpa the most on special occasions. They’d been two peas in a pod their whole married life. When he’d died of cancer three years ago, I didn’t think she was going to make it, but Grandma Deb pulled one out of the hat and refused to give in to her despair. After a few months, it was like she rose from the ashes and came out strong, volunteering for anything she could get her hands on.
“Giving out gets you through, Morgan.” She chirped that at me the first Christmas she had to survive without him. I’d found the comment inspiring and tried to live by it as much as I could. Taking care of others did make life richer...most of the time.
I dumped the cucumber into the salad bowl, tossing it through the lettuce and cherry tomatoes. Grandma scraped the feta cheese and olives from her board and went to wash her hands. I joined her at the sink, taking the dishtowel off her when she was done.
“Right, supper’s ready!” she called into the living room.
I carried the homemade pizza into the dining room and laid it on the table. Grandma followed with the fresh salad and homemade dressing. Jody held her belly as she slid into her seat and was rewarded with a loving smile from her grandmother. She reciprocated, reaching for her hand as we all bowed our heads for grace.
Dinner actually turned out to be a delight. Grandma Deb regaled us with stories from her past, including some hilarious anecdotes about Dad as a child. We laughed and whooped, forgetting all our angst. Jody’s smile was delicious as she giggled at the stories. With her belly hidden beneath the table, it was easy to pretend life was normal. Even Dad managed a few chuckles.
By the time Grandma had blown out the candles on the cake I’d made her and we’d sung “Happy Birthday,” everyone was on a high. We ate the chocolate cake in silence, and it wasn’t until Grandma started offering coffees around that the balloon popped.
“I can’t drink coffee,” Jody whispered.
“I know that, dear.” Grandma patted her hand, but it didn’t erase the frown this time. Jody stifled a yawn as she stood from the table.
“Marshall, I think it’s time you take Jody home.”
“No, that’s okay. We should help you clean up.” Jody started for the kitchen.
“You know that won’t be necessary. Morgan will stay and help me.”
Jody’s face dropped, her eyes growing wide at the prospect of being alone in the car with Dad.
“That’s okay; I can take Jody home then come back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Grandma waved her hand at me. “Jody, you will be fine. You need to go home and rest. Marshall, you’re looking a mite tired yourself. You’re not working too hard now, are you?”
He grinned. “You know me, Mom.”
She chuckled and walked around the table to give them both a hug. In spite of Jody’s reluctance, Grandma Deb shuffled them out the door. I felt a little bad. I should be taking Jody home. I’d driven her here and Dad had met us after work. He didn’t usually work on a Sunday, but it’d been an emergency call.
I waved goodbye and forced a smile, trying to encourage Jody to relax. She returned my pleasantries with a deep frown. I dropped my hand with a sigh.
“Don’t you worry about her. It’s you who needs the break right now.”
“I’m fine.” I squeezed Grandma’s shoulder and closed the door behind her, heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up. I couldn’t believe she still didn’t have a dishwasher. We’d been trying to persuade her for years, but she wouldn’t budge.
“A few dishes never hurt anybody,” she always said.
“Put those pots down, Morgan. Let’s have a coffee first.” With a shrug, I lowered them back onto the stovetop and moved to the kettle, filling the jug while Grandma sorted out the mugs.
“So, now that we’re alone, you can tell me how you’re really doing.”
I took the mugs from her. “What do you mean?”
“Morgan, I see your pain. You try to keep hiding it and stay strong for everybody, but you can’t live like this for the rest of your life.”
I opened my mouth.
“And don’t tell me everything will be fine after the baby is born, because I know that’s not the issue. Your agony has nothing to do with Jody.”
“I’m not...” I frowned. “I’m not in agony.”
“You’re unhappy. You’re going through some kind of pain.”
I swallowed, keeping my eyes on the boiling kettle.
“It’s Sean, isn’t it? You still miss him.” Her hand gently patted my back, and I wanted to step out of her reach.
The kettle whistled, and I poured hot water over the coffee granules.
“I’m fine. That’s over. He couldn’t do what I needed. I thought he might call, try to win me back somehow, but he didn’t. That’s life. There are more guys out there. There’s... You suck it up and you move on. You stay bulletproof and nothing can hurt you.” I slammed the kettle back down.
Grandma cleared her throat and gave me a dry look as I snatched the milk off her. “You know what your problem is?”
The milk slopped out of my cup. I huffed, pinching the dishcloth next to the sink and cleaning up my mess. Without replying, I handed Grandma her coffee.
Her strong gaze remained on me, her expression unflinching. There was no getting out of this. I brushed past her, taking my coffee into the dining room and sitting down with a straight back. I held the steaming cup in my hands, the hot ceramic burning my fingertips.
“Okay, what? What is my problem?”
She slid into her place, blowing on her drink before taking a sip. Lowering her mug, she looked at me across the leftover pizza. “You harp on all the time about being bulletproof, but you’re not.”
My chuckle was dry. “I’m tough. I think I’ve proved that. There’s no way I could have survived if I wasn’t.”
“Sweetie, being tough and being bulletproof are not the same thing.”
I pressed my fingers into the mug, my jaw working to the side as I looked at the only woman in my life who’d nev
er let me down.
“Honey, it comes from in here.” She pointed at her chest, pressing her index finger just below the locket Grandpa gave her four Christmases ago. “When you can find that place of total peace... it’s a place that’s birthed from love and acceptance...and forgiveness. When you find that, it’s like you’re titanium. Because no matter what is thrown at you or who rejects you or treats you unfairly.... All those horrible bullets that get fired your way, they just bounce straight off, because you’re okay. In here.” She tapped her chest.
I swallowed at the lump rising in my throat. I would not cry.
Grandma’s smile was soft, her eyes beaming as she pointed at me. “When you can get to that place of inner peace.” She shook her head with a grin. “You can give without feeling exhausted, and you can love without expecting anything in return.”
I took a sip of my coffee, not knowing what to say.
“And you know the best part about that?” She raised her eyebrows and I shook my head. “When someone does give back...when someone loves back...it’s like the fudge sauce on your sundae.”
I couldn’t even imagine it. Someone loving me back seemed like an impossibility at the moment. I thought Sean had finally been the one—the guy who would wipe away my string of bad choices before him.
But he hadn’t.
And unlike all the rest, I couldn’t seem to move past him. I’d never been single for two months before. It was horrible! I couldn’t imagine sleeping with anyone else. I wanted Sean...but he didn’t want me, not enough to fight for me anyway.
Tears burned my eyes and I quickly blinked them away, sniffing sharply and lifting my chin.
“I don’t have time to find inner peace, Grandma. I don’t even know where to start. Jody needs me; it’s not like I can go on some retreat to discover myself!”
“Be careful there, Morgan.”
“What?”
“With Jody.”
I frowned.
“Don’t try to step in and take charge of this situation just to fill the gap. You’ll rob her of the chance to become the woman she was meant to be. And it’ll do nothing to help your heart.”
I closed my eyes, hating her words. Jody needed me, damn it! I needed her too...at least until the pain went away.
Just hearing myself think those words was like a revelation of its own. I huffed out a sigh, pressing my elbows into the table and catching my head with my hands. “It’s not just a gap I’m filling. It feels like a black vortex. If I don’t put something in there, I’ll get sucked into oblivion.”
“Oh, Morgan.”
“How do you find that peace? It feels so out of reach.” I stretched my hand across the table and clutched at thin air. “What do you do?”
“I talk to God.” She shrugged. “He’s my constant. He sustains me.”
“And He’s enough?”
“He’s enough for me.” She tipped her head, her smile soft and peaceful. “When your Grandpa died, I thought my soul would be shattered forever.” Picking up the locket, she squeezed it between her thumb and forefinger. “I had to find something to keep me going, or I never would have made it out of bed. So I got myself busy. I filled my days until I was so exhausted, I could barely see straight. I nearly drove myself into the ground, you remember, don’t you?”
I winced, remembering that terrible phone call. I’d been in Chicago, listening to Jody’s tears as she told me they were on the way to the hospital. Grandma had collapsed, and they had no idea what was wrong with her.
It’d been a harrowing few days as we waited out test results. Turned out she hadn’t been taking very good care of herself. I’d nearly moved back home, but she’d kept me in Chicago with her soft commands, telling me I owed it to myself to stay.
“I had to let go, really look inside myself and figure out what I needed.” She shrugged. “Being on bed rest for a couple of weeks really gives you time to think. It’s funny how those crisis moments help define us, make us shake hands with our demons.” Blowing on her coffee, she took another sip. “I had to stop in order to find my way. I wonder what you’re gonna have to do?”
“Great, so there’s still a crisis coming?”
“I hope so.”
I scoffed and looked to the ceiling. “Thanks a lot. I already feel like I’m living in one big crisis.”
“Then maybe you should take this time to stop and figure out what you really need.”
Sean.
I said his name in my head until I was shouting it, but I knew it wasn’t the answer Grandma was looking for.
“Morgan, honey, you’re bound by things you haven’t dealt with yet. You’ve buried them deep and let them fester.”
My teeth ground together, my breathing shortening to a bare whisper.
“You need to root those out, like a weed.” She snapped her fingers. “If you can do that, you’ll find your happiness, you’ll find that peace. You’ll be bulletproof.” She pointed at me and winked. “Like I said, if you can learn to be happy on your own, just think what a bonus it will be when the right man comes along.”
“The right man did come along, and I walked away from him.” I slammed the table.
“But you’re not ready. Honey, if you don’t shake hands with those demons of yours and tell them they are no longer welcome in your life, you’ll never be ready for anything, especially a relationship.”
I hated this conversation. I wanted to shoot out of my chair and make a beeline for the car, but Grandma’s steady gaze had me locked in place.
“You need to forgive her,” she whispered.
Snatching my coffee, I took a sip, my entire body resisting those words.
She left us. She turned me into a mother at the age of fourteen! How the hell was I supposed to forgive her! I hadn’t spoken to my mother since I slammed the phone in her ear on my fifteenth birthday. Like she even had a right to call!
“Don’t let her do this to you anymore. Take back control of your life and fight for the woman you were meant to be. She’s in there. I see glimmers of it all the time.”
“I don’t know how,” I mumbled.
“I just told you how! Now go and do it!”
“I don’t—” I rose from my chair, pushing it back into place. “I don’t have time for this.” Desperate to avoid her gaze, I shot back into the kitchen and busied myself with dishes. Grandma remained mercifully quiet, calmly working beside my ridiculous flurry of movements.
Forty minutes later, I was kissing her goodbye.
“I love you, Morgan. I wouldn’t challenge you if I didn’t.”
I forced a smile. “I love you too.”
Raising my hand, I raced down the path, shutting myself into the safety of my car. Revving the engine, I flicked on the radio and turned up the volume until it thumped through my car, carrying me home and forcing the rattling conversation with Grandma Deb out of my brain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SEAN
“Sean! Sean!”
Isabella raced up behind me, pulling me to a stop with her tiny fingers.
“I need to see you before you leave today. I’ve come up with some great moves for your solo next week and I want to go over them.”
I inwardly cringed. I’d been trying to avoid our choreographer all day, knowing she had the moves set for me. I did need to get onto it, otherwise I wouldn’t know the part in time for filming. I just really didn’t want to dance that song.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Yeah, of course.”
“Are you free now? I’ve got an hour.”
“Uh-huh.” I didn’t want to be free; I wanted to go and hide out in my room until Con needed me back on set, but Isabella had me now, and there was no way I could get out of it.
I forced a smile and followed her up to the rehearsal room.
“Okay.” She stretched her arms wide. “So this piece is pretty awesome. You don’t often get a complete solo, so I’m happy for you, and I love the way it’s going to flash to Sasha as you’re singi
ng. I can picture it all really clearly. So let me show you what I’ve got, and then we can go from there.”
I nodded, pinching my lower lip between my fingers.
“I Wish You Were Here” by Cody Simpson filled the room. My stomach curdled, his voice instantly reminding me of the night Morgan and I had made love in this dance studio. My gaze left Isabella’s body and landed on the spot Morgan had lain, naked and glorious in the pale light, her long legs wrapping around me as I buried myself inside her.
“Hey, are you watching?” Isabella clapped her hands, grabbing my attention.
“Huh?” I glanced at her, going for innocent, but she saw straight through it.
Her hip popped out to the side, her hand finding a quick home there.
“Dude, you have it bad.”
“What?”
“When are you going to do something about it? You’ve been a freaking basket case.” She held up three fingers. “Three months, Sean. You idiot!”
I frowned, my head jerking back. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Her little body pinged straight and she marched toward me. Her head only came up to my shoulders, but the little small fry could be intimidating when she wanted to be. I took a step back. “Morgan told me, okay. I can’t believe you just let her walk out the door!”
“It’s not that simple. You don’t even know—”
“I do know! I talk to her all the time!”
“You do?” My arms dropped to my sides, the air in my lungs evaporating.
“Yes, we’re friends.”
“Is she...? How is she?”
“Oh, you know, working some receptionist job with a company she doesn’t care about.” Isabella’s eyebrow quirked. “Why don’t you call her and find out?”
“Because—” I threw my hands in the air. “Because I can’t, okay! I can’t give her what she wants!”
“All she was asking you to do was fight for her, Sean.”
“No.” I waved my finger. “She was asking me to choose between her and my career.”
“I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
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