Two Blue Lines (Crossing The Line #1)

by Sc Montgomery

  She cried along with me. Told me how strong I was and apologized for not seeing the signs, though I told her I was hiding it on purpose.

  “I know you struggle,” she said. “That you find me lacking somehow as your mom. But I love you just as much as I love Chris and nothing you could do would ever change that.”

  My heart twisted into a mangled mess in my chest. I’d been so unfair to my parents in my obsession with my genetics and history. I’d neglected my present for the past. I cried even harder and apologized for every selfish, bratty thing I’d ever said or done. Told her I loved her for the first time in I don’t know how long.

  She nodded like she’d known it all along then blew me away by telling me she’d help me find my biological mom if I still wanted that. She said that she could probably never understand that hole in my life completely, but she was trying, and that she’d shut me down last time out of fear.

  She didn’t want to lose me.

  I’m not sure about finding my other mother now. Maybe someday. And then, maybe I’ll find out she was a hurting teenager like me. Or raped. Maybe she was a million things. But what she wasn’t, was my mommy, and I said so.

  For the Love of Lettie

  I was right. My father was a genius.

  It took another two days, but Melissa finally got well enough to get out of ICU and I was able to wheel her to the NICU to see our daughter. She seemed lighter, happier now. More like my old Mel. She said she and her mom talked and they were working some things out. I was happy for her. I wasn’t sure what I’d do without my parents.

  In the nursery, I watched her face absolutely infuse with joy at the sight of our baby. That, along with the bursting love bubble I’d been living with for a couple days now, and I realized Dad had been right about the whole fingerprints on the soul thing.

  Mel cooed and got all maternal, caressing the baby’s back as nurse Kelly patiently explained everything again, including how they could try and get her started pumping breastmilk.

  “Oh, Reed, she’s so tiny. So pretty,” Mel said with a smile in her voice.

  “Just like her mama,” I said, watching Melissa’s face.

  She grinned up at me. “What do you wanna name her?”

  I shrugged.

  She glanced back down at the tiny girl in the incubator who’d already stolen my heart and was apparently absconding with hers. “How about Lettie? Lettie Victoria?” she asked after a moment.

  I shifted my gaze back to her, shocked. “What?”

  She looked at me. “Lettie. It’s a special name to you. It’s old-fashioned and classy. I like it. And Victoria is my mom’s middle name. They go together, don’t you think?”

  I studied our baby, trying to gauge the name against her itty-bitty features. “Whatever you want, babe,” I finally said, choking back emotion. “Only if you really like it.”

  “Do you like it?”

  I swallowed. “It’s perfect.”

  She nodded. “Lettie Victoria Young it is then.”

  We gazed at our baby for the longest time, soaking in the newness of this life we’d created and I contemplated the reality of my situation.

  Ideal? No.

  Perfect? Definitely not.

  Who wants to be a father at sixteen?

  No one.

  Including me.

  But I am one. And I’m determined to embrace every rocky step along this journey. Because these two girls own every single piece of this heart.

  November 3rd

  I can’t believe I had a baby! And, the doctor told me I almost died.

  But, I have a daughter now. An adorable daughter who’s doing pretty well in the NICU.

  Lettie.

  I just couldn’t pick any other name.

  Reed loves me. My parents love me. I’m going to get some help dealing with what happened. I’m slowly giving up some of my shame over it all, but it’s not always easy . . . but I will keep at it, a little at a time.

  What’s important now is we’re going to be OK. Our baby is going to be OK.

  If only I really knew she was our baby . . .

  Melissa

  My name is Melissa Summers, and I’ve dreamed of nothing more than being with Reed Young since I was thirteen years old. Well, that, and being an Olympic synchronized swimmer, but that dream quickly died when I realized I couldn’t hold my breath longer than about thirty-eight seconds and I’m pretty much as coordinated as a drunk mule.

  But, Reed . . . he was a dream that did come true.

  I will never forget the first day I caught his attention . . . because I’d been trying for two straight months. I wore a Misfits T-shirt (because I’d noticed the sticker on his locker) and lots of black eyeliner, and strode by with as much confidence as a girl that age can muster with my lunch tray in my hands.

  He was sitting there, talking and laughing with his best buddy, Jonah King, all but oblivious to me. Until I tripped on my black Keds and fell right beside him, dumping my lunch all over the floor and myself.

  I was mortified.

  I wanted to run, crying and screaming, and die in a hole.

  But Reed shifted in his seat and looked at me. Finally looked at me.

  And that was it.

  He helped me up, we cleaned up my spilled lunch tray, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

  And I Love him. Yes, that is with a capital L.

  He’s not only the most adorable boy in school with his dark hazel eyes and dimple, he’s funny, he’s hard-working, he’s smart . . . like super smart. And he’s sweet. He gets me to my core. About six months into our relationship, I spilled my guts about being adopted and how I’d always felt sort of lost. Adrift in a sea of happy kids. He seemed to get it. And not only that, he loves me. Just . . . loves me.

  But here’s the kicker.

  I lied to him in a big, fat, unforgiveable way.

  And he forgave me anyway.

  So, as I sit here staring at a benign-looking envelope, waiting for him to get here, my heart is tied in about a million knots in my throat. He says that he doesn’t care about the DNA results. Lettie is his daughter, and he only did the testing because I asked him to. I had to know. I needed to know. I did not want that night at Jonah’s house to haunt me every time I looked at my baby. I wanted to be able to deal—to heal—one way or another, and my counselor agrees I should know the truth if it will help me.

  I pick up the business-sized envelope and turn it over and over in my hand, pulling my baby’s face into focus. So small, so sweet, so utterly innocent. So perfect in every way. The doctors tell us she should be able to come home any day now.

  These results are just the beginning of this journey we’re making together. As a family.

  We’ve talked about it ad nauseum. Our mistakes. How we wish we could’ve done things differently. But what’s done is done, and we’re making the best of it. But this envelope truly means more to me than it does to him, and that blows my mind.

  God, I want her to be Reed’s so bad.

  The doorbell rings and I nearly jump out of my skin. I rush to answer and welcome the rush of relief when Reed smiles warmly at me. “Hi, babe.”

  “Hi,” I say, stepping back to let him in as sudden nerves have my pulse rushing through me so fast I have to breathe deep or I’m afraid I’ll faint.

  He closes the door behind him. “Whatcha got there?” He’s eyeing the envelope still clutched in my sweaty hand.

  “It’s . . .” I swallow thickly. “It’s Lettie’s DNA results.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment, the silence making my skin feel too small for my body. “Mel—”

  “I know,” I interrupt, unable to look him in the eye. “You’ve said you don’t care. But I do. I need to know.”

  Something in him softens. He grips my free hand. “Babe . . .” He waits until I peer up. “I do care. About you. I want you to have whatever you need to move on.”

  A shaky smile pulls on my lips. “Okay.”

&nbs
p; I lead him toward my bedroom and close us inside, as if the cocoon of my room will insulate whatever news we’re about to receive.

  “Where’re your parents? Don’t they want to be with you for this?”

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I just wanted it to be us. Just in case . . .” I can’t say more as tears clog my throat. The idea that Lettie might be a monster’s child has been nipping at my heels, causing me nightmares for months. Reed deserves her. Period.

  He moves and pulls me next to him until we’re both sitting on the bed. “Babe. I told you, it doesn’t matter what those papers say. She’s mine. This is just a formality. DNA. Biology. That’s all. I’m her father—”

  “I know. I just—” I dip my head, overcome. I’m not sure I deserve him.

  “—and I don’t want to know.”

  My head snaps up. “What?”

  “I’ve thought long and hard about this. I don’t want to know the results.”

  I think of how the uncertainty has been killing me. “How can you not want to know? Don’t you care?”

  His words whisper over me in a silky comfort, “I do care. Enough that I don’t need any paper to tell me I’m a father.”

  I stare at the envelope, trying to envision just throwing it away. Not looking. Never knowing.

  I just can’t.

  Tears streak down my face and he puts an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder. “You go ahead and look, babe. It won’t bother me.”

  I stare up at him.

  He presses his lips to mine. “I swear. We’re in this together, no matter what. We’re going to have a life together with our daughter, no matter what. If I need to know someday later, so be it. But not now. So you go right on and open that envelope. I’ll be in the living room waiting for you, okay?”

  The breath shutters out of me. I’m petrified, but I nod. He stands to go, his smiling eyes the last thing I see before he gently closes the door behind him.

  I sit for a long time, staring at the damning paper, now wrinkled in my grasp. He’s really going to live his life not knowing?

  I’m humbled by his love for me. For Lettie. I wish I was stronger.

  With a ragged intake of air, I rip open the envelope. It looks like Chinese with all the letters and numbers and science-speak.

  Tears are hovering, quivering on my lashes, when I finally see the truth.

  And, just like that, I’m free.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading Two Blue Lines! I hope you loved Reed and Melissa’s story as much as I do. I am just starting out on the YA venture and it is so thrilling! If I may ask for your support, please spread the word if you enjoyed the book, and any and all reviews are very much appreciated! That is the lifeblood of an author.

  I’d also like to invite you to pick up Lines in the Sand if you haven’t read it yet, which is the prequel novella to this series that tells the story of the summer Reed and Jonah found Lettie. It does not contain mature subject matter and is appropriate for younger readers.

  And, please be on the lookout for Jonah’s book, Blurred Lines, as well as Chris’ story in Between the Lines, both coming later this year.

  Feel free to pop over to my website for all the latest info, connect with me on social media, and sign up for my newsletter so you don’t miss anything. I just adore hearing from my fans!

  Thanks again! Hugs!

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  Acknowledgments

  This Young Adult journey has been a real growth experience for me and I have a ton of people to thank . . . please forgive me if I forget anyone.

  First, thank you, Lord, for the inspiration and the story.

  Lots of love to my angels, my safe place . . . my husband and children. You are everything to me.

  To my parents, who have always shown their unconditional love and support, and especially my mother, who was so instrumental in encouraging me to begin this adventure.

  To C.C. Hunter, whose utter belief in me give me hope. Thank you for the love and encouragement.

  Lori Wilde, I thank you for your encouragement, for pushing me to make this story even better with those few pivotal plot points, and for the tears you shed when you first heard about Reed and Melissa.

  HUGE thanks to my lovely and wonderful assistant, Kimberly Dawn. Melissa got a fresh and bigger voice because of you. You are my sunshine!

  Thank you to every blogger, reviewer, and PR person who has helped me spread the word about this book. We authors couldn’t do it without you! And, especially, my wonderful critique partners and beta readers: Jan Nash, Susan Muller, Delene Yochum, Donna Flint, and Amy Weiner. You all truly made this story shine with your feedback and suggestions. THANK YOU!

  Shout out to my fellow Divas, Ink authors for their continued support and encouragement and all the laughs.

  And, last but not least, to you. My reader. Ultimately, I write for you.

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  Copyright © 2014 by SC Montgomery

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Books by SC Montgomery

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Forty-one

  Forty-two

  Reader Letter

  Acknowledgments

  About the Book Designer

  Copyright Notice