Cherished by You: A Found by You Finale Novella

by Victoria H. Smith

  A picture of the two of us sat on my desk, one of our engagement photos, and I really did feel at home, plopping into my conference chair. And plop, I did.

  My feet swollen, I took a minute to catch my breath.

  It took all I had to get Ms. Harris to let me go. I’d been under her care since the day I hired her, and she kept me on quite a short leash these days.

  Sighing, I spread out, but I think I only got my device booted before my door shot open.

  Stevie in all her edgy glory made her way into my office. Her curvy hips wrapped in a pencil skirt, she swayed her way into my office. Her six-inch stilettos only added to a frame that already went on forever. She used to model in the plus size industry, a fabulous size twenty-two.

  Her arms crossed over her chest as her blonde hair swept over her brown cheeks.

  Smirking, she laughed a little. “Griffin, is going to kill you, you know?”

  My eyes could only lift to the heavens. Sliding on my chair wheels, I got my spreadsheet open. “Well, he’s not going to find out I’m here now is he?”

  “I’ve been told to report if such a thing occurs,” she simply said, making her way into the room.

  Of course she was. I guess because my husband knew me.

  I groaned. “I couldn’t be at home because there’s the contractors working on the baby’s room, and then that woman he made me hire.”

  My mind whirled at the constant scheduling, the babying and how my entire day was completely planned. The woman had a specific time for everything and a precise way in which I had to do what she asked. Apparently “nannying” extended to the mother until the baby was born.

  I put my hand on Jackson. “She’s driving me crazy. Her name is Ms. Harris, and she’s always in my face with something. I need to eat. I need to sleep. I need to take my vitamins and do my activities.”

  “Activities?” Stevie chuckled, taking the edge of my desk when she took a seat.

  “I wish I was joking. I do mommy aerobics, which is fine, but she also has me doing knitting and sewing. ‘All things that aren’t bad to learn, Roxie.’”

  My Ms. Harris voice nearly had Stevie rolling off my desk, but I wasn’t joking. I’d hear it all whenever I complained I didn’t feel like or have time to do something.

  “All I want is some peace and quiet,” I explained to Stevie. I sat back in my chair. “I have to sneak work in at home before Griffin gets in. He wants me to relax, and I get that but…”

  Exasperated, I faced out the window. So bright, the Miami sunshine cast a glow over the entire metropolitan area. Downtown had always been so busy, so lovely. That’s why I had my office here.

  I turned back to Stevie. “I’m pregnant, but I’m not disabled. I think he forgets that.”

  As if someone knew, he bumped me, lodging a limb into the wall of my stomach. My blouse poked at the bump, and I laughed a little.

  It was so crazy I could feel him, his presence beyond that of his flutters. He really was in there, my baby boy, my Jackson.

  Stevie’s lip went into her mouth with her smile upon seeing me rub my tummy. Crossing her legs, she tilted her head at me. “Griffin just wants what’s best for you, Roxie. What’s best for you and the baby?”

  I knew he did, which was why being frustrated at all made no sense. He did want what was best. He did.

  Stevie placed a pump on the floor. “I won’t tell him—this time. But I better not see you in here again before that little one is due.”

  If there was ever a reason I could doubt why I hired that woman, there wouldn’t be now. She was my saving grace. Giving me a wink, she backed away and closed the double doors behind her.

  I didn’t waste a moment, typing away. I went through my mental to-do list of tasks I had all while paying attention to the time. Ms. Harris was right about one thing today. Griffin would be home soon, and I didn’t want to have to cover for myself.

  “She’s not here, miss. I’m sorry.”

  I looked up, tilting my head. I couldn’t see through the crack of my double doors, but I knew the voice to be Stevie’s.

  “But I saw her come in. Please. I took the bus all the way here.”

  That… That voice.

  “Can you just ask if she’ll see prospective clients?”

  I stood slowly, my heart racing, literally slamming against my chest.

  My limbs felt heavy, a fiery burn pushing bile up into my throat. It sat there in an angry ball, choking me and not allowing my lungs to find air.

  I gripped the desk, the rise of a fainting spell fast approaching. I faced the door, shaking my head.

  No. It can’t be. Can it?

  “I’m sorry you traveled so far, but Mrs. Chandler is simply not seeing clients today. Now, you can leave your name—”

  “But you admit she’s here. Please. I know her. If you could just ask if she’d see me.”

  She knows me.

  My legs, so shaky took me to the door. Nausea turned its ugly head, and my stomach rolled. Any other time, I’d worry. I’d worry it was the baby or something… that something was wrong. But it wasn’t the baby. No, it was her, that woman outside my office.

  That voice.

  “What’s your name, miss?” Stevie asked, her back turning toward me. I knew because I’d opened the door. I knew because I could see her, and then, she could see me when she turned. Someone else turned as well when she did—someone with long, raven-colored hair, and eyes big and brown, as well as beautiful. They were like I remembered, but a bit different now. She was a bit different now.

  Her hair so lovely, she had the strands messy and up on her head and her tanned skin—a deep copper, flushed. There was also no makeup on a face I was so used to seeing done up.

  My inventory was done and I noticed she was holding onto something as her hands fell firmly to her waist. I knew that position well, though, barely a nub could be seen under her shirt. It was a protective position. She was protecting something, someone.

  Those brown eyes flashed at me—the black lashes so lengthy.

  “Roxie?” she said, and I drew in a breath. I couldn’t say her name. It wouldn’t form on my lips.

  My former step-sister's name.

  Roxie - Age Fifteen

  A pink, pointy flat tapped the heel of my sneaker, and I lowered my book to my lap, dropping my other foot to the floor from the bench I sat on.

  Cassidy’s skirted-hip touched the side of the dressing room I’d been hiding in, her arms crossed over her chest. Her lashes did a flickering thing, eyes full of judgment over my book, but then she smiled.

  She pushed her bangs from in front of her eyes, then tipped her chin. “You’re hiding.”

  I was.

  “I’m not,” I lied, tucking the book underneath me. I had just gotten to the good part, but wouldn’t dare dwell on that. She might look at me funny if she knew I was having a better time in here. Even worse she might think I wasn’t normal. I didn’t want her thinking I wasn’t normal.

  I sat up, and Cassidy came in, smelling of freesia and other flowery things. She tried to get me to wear that stuff all the time, and I did like it, but it could be overpowering.

  She touched a dress still hung up on the wall, then eyed me over it when she picked it up. “You don’t like it?”

  I stood, wishing I could lie to her. I had never been good at lying, though.

  I shook my head, and she took my hand, dragging me out of the dressing room and into the busy storefront. Everyone was here today, kids from school and what not. It was the last shopping weekend before homecoming. I guess that had been why.

  Cassidy worked her way around the store, her cloak of dark hair twisted into a thick braid down her back. Mine matched. She’d done it for me before we left the house today.

  She turned around a gown in her hand that could only be known as a frock. She bit her lip a little.

  “It’s pretty,” she said, pulling her long fingers through the material at the bottom. It bunched all weird and
had this sequency stuff in a pale pink color. The first one she picked out had been similar. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any taste, but we just… didn’t have many options.

  I wasn’t as easy to fit as she was.

  Trying hard to hide my distaste for the dress, I went to take it, but Cassidy knew me too well. I knew her, too.

  She shoved the dress back into the rack before I could take it, shaking her head as she did.

  She put her hands on my shoulders. “We’re going to find you something.”

  Honestly, I wondered why she continued to bother. I was kind of humoring her today. It wasn’t like I had a date for the dance or anything. I never did. This was my dad. My dad told me I should come today.

  Her fingers threaded in mine, she tugged me to the four or so racks designated to essentially my part of the store. The plus size section wasn’t ever really big.

  Cassidy thumbed and thumbed, so determined, and I turned over my shoulder, looking for Radha. I found her quickly, tossing gowns over her shoulder. She and the other girls we came with today held dresses up to their fronts in the other section of the store, spinning around with them and giggling.

  Radha’s dark eyes found mine while holding a green one. Flashing away quickly, she grinned at her friends, showcasing the low back of the gown she held. She’d been acting so different lately, ever since we started high school.

  “I got it,” came from behind me and I turned, not confident about another Cassidy find.

  But then… I saw it.

  It was black and stopped mid-calf with ruched fabric at the bottom. The top itself looked like a heart, the waist so tiny.

  “A sweetheart neckline,” Cassidy said bringing her fingers over the top of each of the heart’s curve. She gave me that wide smile again. She was always smiling. I guess I would, too. She was so pretty.

  I found my way into the dressing room by her hand, humoring her once more with this dress she found. I had tried on so many today. It just wasn’t my thing.

  “Just try, sweet pea.”

  My dad’s voice in my head, I slid the gown on, getting the back zipped up pretty good without help. In actuality only the very tip of the zipper I couldn’t get up.

  “You got it, Roxie?”

  I came out so she wouldn’t come in. I did get the dress zipped so she wouldn’t have to help me.

  Out of the room, I stood there, waiting for some kind of response from Cassidy. She hadn’t said anything when I stepped out, simply staring at me.

  And she wasn’t the only one.

  It seemed as if the world had stopped around me in that moment. Quite literally, people stopped, stared. Girls wearing their own gowns remained silent, as well as the employees passing more off to them. They all stopped. They stopped and looked at me.

  Feeling vulnerable, I made the moves to go back into the dressing room. I made the mistake of not looking in the mirror before I came out.

  I probably look like an idiot.

  Cassidy caught my fingers before I could leave, though, quicker than me.

  “You must see,” she said, dragging me by the hand. But I didn’t want to see. I didn’t if I looked…

  I caught myself in a set of long mirrors outside the dressing room, my fingers to a bodice of what seemed to be a trim waist, black material flaring over my hips before sweeping out and flowing. The silk wrapped tight around my waist, but not too tight. It fit snug, pushing up my chest just a little. My shoulders were exposed, but that was okay. I didn’t mind it.

  My glasses were slid from my face, Cassidy’s doing, and I watched myself in the mirror, my round face and big eyes. But they didn’t look big. I didn’t look big. I looked proportionate. I looked like this was all right, this dress all right for me.

  “You can wear this with your Converses, too,” Cassidy said in my ear. I could see her grinning from my side through the mirror and she was right, my shoes did match.

  I tipped my sneaker out to verify, smiling when I turned to look at Cassidy. I had caught someone else’s gaze before I did, though, and that someone was wearing something very similar.

  The dress covered Radha well, too, but just in a different way. My step-sister had always been svelte, trim, and the gown highlighted all that. Her bust sat perfect, her waist so small.

  I think Cassidy noticed at the same time I had on what her sister wore. She stepped back, letting Radha into our circle, and a circle had formed, the three of us and Radha’s friends.

  Radha’s mouth opened slowly, her eyes flicking back from me to her in the mirror.

  I turned toward her, feeling weird all the sudden.

  “It looks good on you, Rad,” I said because it did. It did look good.

  Haley, Radha’s friend with red hair, tilted her head in the mirror. “Yeah, but it looks better on you.”

  Blinking, I didn’t expect that, especially from her friend.

  I lifted my hands. “I…”

  “She’s right,” Radha said, surprising me more. Her gaze went back to the pair of us in the mirror, and she stared. She stared at us such a long time.

  Her lashes flicked away from me and she smiled before facing her friends. “I guess she fills it in ways I don’t.”

  A laugh sounded a little behind her words, and that summoned more, more laughter, her friends and some of our other classmates who stood to watch. Of course, they stopped to watch my step-sister who was so popular at school.

  The sound shrunk me in my place, my fingers sweating, and my heart feeling funny. I didn’t want to be in the dress anymore. I—

  Cassidy reached out, reached to touch my arm. I knew because I saw the move in the mirror. That was the only way I knew, though. She never made contact. She retreated, choosing not to.

  Her hand falling back to her side, she left me standing there, breaking eye contact with me through the mirror.

  Radha turned, her hair sweeping over her shoulder. She didn’t wear a braid like Cassidy and me. She stopped wearing those.

  “Take the dress,” she said to me, her hands on her hips. “No big deal I guess.”

  But it did feel like a big deal.

  It did.

  Roxie - Age Fifteen

  “Is Radha mad at me?”

  Cassidy took the seat beside me, sliding underneath the back table I’d been sitting at. I sat here nearly all night, choosing to do so by myself underneath the flashing lights.

  The whole room had been decked out, beautiful for the homecoming dance. The student council had done a good job, adding streamers and things to the gym. They even put glitter on the tables.

  Cassidy rested her hands on the decorated tablecloth, leaning in. “What makes you think that, Roxie?”

  My gaze lifted, finding Radha and her friends. She’d stayed with them all night tonight, came here with them instead of with Cassidy and me. She and her posse let it go on the dance floor, the DJ’s favorites as he pointed at them behind his turntable. The little high school dance floor was consumed with people, but Radha and her friends had everyone’s attention. She wore a green dress tonight, opting to piece it with a fringy sash and jewels pressed to her forehead. She looked like a princess. My stepmom, Julie, said she looked like her at her first dance. She’d helped them both get ready tonight, Radha and Cassidy. She donned up their traditional homecoming gowns with elements from their Indian heritage. They had a good time, laughing and everything, and Julie had invited me to be a part of it. It just didn’t feel like my place.

  I put my hands in my lap, on the skirt of my black dress. I shrugged.

  “She’s just acting differently,” I said, thinking about the incident at the dress shop. She’d never said anything like that to me before. She’d never made fun of me before.

  I shook my head. “Is she mad about the dress thing?” Because I didn’t want to get it. I didn’t if it made her mad at me. I didn’t even want to go to this stupid dance. Things like that didn’t matter to me, but she did.

  She mattered.

/>   Cassidy’s hand went over mine in my lap. She picked out a pink dress, a sash like Radha’s wrapped around her.

  She squeezed. “Just don’t think about it. Just…”

  Her gaze drifted off toward the dance floor, and mine followed. Like Radha knew eyes were on her, she spotted the pair of us staring at her. She stopped dancing then, slowing away from the beat she danced to with her friends.

  “She’s fine,” Cassidy said, staring at her. “I’m sure she is.”

  I had to take her word for it I guess. She did know her better than me, her sister by blood and not marriage.

  Cassidy’s hand stayed in my lap, and the pair of us sat there for a bit, silent aside from the heavy dance track in the room. Though quiet, I didn’t feel alone like I had before. It was Cassidy. Her hand rubbing mine, she had always been there for me. She never left. She hadn’t changed as Radha seemed to. And she did change.

  I just didn’t understand why.

  I got closer to my step-sister, almost feeling like I was mourning another. We’d been so close since our parents married, and I truly did feel like I lost her, but then, something happened with the change of the music. The song got louder, the music pumped at the max, and Radha broke away from her friends. She left her friends, and came to me.

  Out of breath, she arrived at Cassidy and my table.

  My hand slowly left Cassidy’s. “Rad—”

  “You guys coming out?” she asked, but I didn’t know if she was serious. But she was smiling, though. She smiled completely wide.

  Her hand came out, reaching for mine and I stood, letting her help me up.

  My lips parted, I faced Cassidy, a similar grin, as her sister’s on her face. She mouthed something to me in dark room, and I deciphered the words, “Told you.”

  Her hand joined mine after that, and together, the three of us got up and joined Radha’s friends. They were already there on the dance floor, having a good time, and I got in there, too. It was rather easy to follow the dance moves, the singer calling them out before they happened, but that’s not what made the whole experience easy, fun.