Did my mother ever feel this way about me? I don’t remember moments like these. I know I had a nanny, Matilda. I can remember reading books with Matilda, but I have no soft memories of my mother.
Not a single one.
I don’t even remember her telling me that she loves me.
Not once.
At least my father did that. And Grandma Max used to tell me all the time how special I was. But never my mother. I was always less, nothing she could be proud of. I guess I’ve always figured that some mothers don’t have it in them.
Holding Rory is destroying that theory though. Because if I can manage to feel this way for a child who isn’t my own, then why can’t she feel it for me? What did I do to deserve her bitter disappointment?
My arms tighten around Rory at the thought, hopeful that she’ll never doubt her worth. That she’ll always know she’s wanted.
The silence of the room is broken by a sharp breath, almost a gasp. My eyes crack open to see Declan in the doorway, lips pressed together, nose wrinkled with pending emotion. For a second, I wonder if I’ve done something wrong, holding her all night like this so she could sleep. I’ve never even babysat a child, it’s not like I know any better. But no, he takes a step toward me, and it’s not just the approval, but the gratitude for what I’ve given his daughter.
“Did you sleep at all?” Declan’s his palm slips over my hair.
I shrug because after the feelings I’ve had, sleep is secondary. “Off and on. But I’m glad you had a chance to rest.”
He’s staring at me, watching me with a look in his eye I can’t decipher. Plans are forming in the analyst’s mind until he whispers, “We’re calling in sick.” There’s more there. He’s still thinking, still pulling apart the truth of it all, but he won’t tell me the rest, not yet.
Rory’s warmth peels back as his expert hands transfer her from my grip, back to her bed. She rustles once, but rolls and is still. Declan’s fingers catch mine and pull me from the chair.
“Call in,” he whispers against my cheek.
Every nerve sharpens. My eyes roll back as my breathing deepens. With two words he’s completely unraveled me. But it’s more than the words, the words are nothing compared with the way he’s pulled me close, as if I belong to him.
I do belong to him. It strikes me again the way my life is finally back on track, as if I’m exactly where I’ve always been meant to land. My lips find his before I leave the room, a quick moment to let him know I feel it too. I understand this need he’s trying to show me. For the first time in my life, I’m understanding love.
∞ ∞ ∞
After a few lies about food poisoning, and a long mid-morning nap, I wake up with Rory wedged between us. Perfection embodied in our pseudo family.
What if he’d found me earlier? What if instead of Samantha, he’d met me in college. Would Rory be mine? Would the cracks in his psyche be healed because Samantha was never there to create them to begin with? I can’t help but want this life to be mine, and I’m desperate to make it happen.
∞ ∞ ∞
I slip up once, saying I’ve never been out to the coast. Thankfully, Declan thinks I mean that I’ve been so busy, not that I moved here a few weeks ago. Either way, that’s his plan now for our day of slacking.
Moments before we get into the car, I swear I spot her. Indigo’s mom, watching me from across the street. Her sunglasses shield her face even though the sun never bothered to break through the cloud cover today. Her dark hair is pulled to the side in a braid, long and thick, like Indigo’s and I guess, all things considered, like mine. I raise a hand to flag her down, but as a bus passes, she leaves. It makes me wonder if she was ever there to begin with.
It’s an hour to Stinson Beach. Traffic is light because everyone is working, like we should be. Rory insists that I sit in the backseat with her and we hold hands because we’re friends. Declan can’t resist cracking jokes about being chauffeur to princesses, but he also spends way too much time watching me interact with Rory. There’s no distrust there. If I had to label it, I might call it adoration.
Rory obviously knows the beach well because her legs are kicking as we make the last turn. Her chattering babble fills the car. I can’t understand a word as I unfasten her belts. My heart swells when she insists on my hand, not her father’s. Pebbles shift to sand beneath my bare feet as she pulls me toward the water. The waves meet us with a blinding shock of cold. Rory pays it no mind and drags me deeper until I’m ankle deep.
Declan has dropped our bag on the sand about thirty feet behind where we’re playing. He’s got the sand toys, snacks, and lucky for him he’s in warm sand, not cold water like I am.
“Do you want to build a sand castle?” I ask her as I drop to look into her eyes.
“No,” she says. Her sandy hand plants a wet print against my face. “You lipsa blue, mommy.”
Breath rushes out of me in an instant at the sound of the title.
But it means nothing.
I’m a woman.
I’m grown.
Therefore, I’m a mommy. I’m not her mommy.
But as my teeth chatter and my lips turn purple, I realize that I’m starting to wish I could be.
∞ ∞ ∞
I always imagined California to be all surfers and sunshine. And yes. There are surfers in the waves, but they’re wearing wetsuits.
I'm happy Declan brought a blanket and I pull it tight around me. You'd never guess there’s a chill in the air from the way Rory giggles and plays at the edges of the surf. Her laughter rattles and tumbles, one falling right into the next like the waves. She's a vibrant light, and I can see it in her father’s eyes as he plays with her.
She's his world.
Maybe another woman would feel jealous, but all I can do is admire her, admire and wish my father had felt the same at some point in time. The thought chills me and I shiver. Mist blows in from the crashing waves. It settles on my skin, in my hair, on the tip of my nose, until I feel saturated like the humidity back home.
I shiver once more. I must have caught Declan's attention because those eyes turn on me.
Then I see it.
Life around us stills and the world beyond his expression blurs. Is it possible to love two people with such intensity? Because it's there, I'm his world as well. I'm everything to him.
And he's the same for me.
Everything.
Everything I've looked for.
Everything I've dreamt.
Every star I've wished on and every candle I've blown out.
Everything.
∞ ∞ ∞
My apartment is ready. I know it, he knows it, and yet neither one of us talk about it on the drive back to his place. His thumb brushes back and forth over my hand, sending my heart into fluttering fits.
“Are you staying for dinner?” He takes the exit that leads into the city.
“Is that an invitation?” I ask, trying to remain coy.
Declan doesn’t answer at first. He glances in the rear mirror at Rory sleeping in her car seat. Her exhaustion is the only reason I was even permitted to sit in the front seat. If she were awake, I’m sure I’d be in the back listening to her adorable stories.
“Move in with me,” Declan says.
My hand jerks. He shoots a worried glance in my direction. Did I hear him right?
“You mean tonight or—”
“Forever,” he says. “That seems long enough.”
“I don’t, I mean, I’m not sur—” Try as I may, coherent sentences won’t form. “Are you serious?”
He maintains his grip on my hand and presses it to his lips. “You said you were having money trouble, and it’s better with you around. I think we’ll get here eventually, but I want it now. I don’t want to go back to lonely nights without you.”
The weight of what he’s asking feels suffocating. I mean, yes, I want to scream yes and head back to Indigo’s place to pack, but that’s the thing right there. None
of it’s even mine.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” I say after a second of silence. “This is bigger than a weekend together, Dec.”
The last thing I want to do is hurt him. But isn’t that what this relationship is going to be built on in the end? My lies and his hurt?
“Samantha does the whole cry it out method.” His abrupt change of topic sets me on edge. Red lights glow against my face as cars stop for yet another accident. “She says it’s what the books say is best for the child, but I know the truth. She doesn’t want to get up with Aurora. No amount of love for her child could drive that woman to sacrifice any sleep. She lets her cry. That’s why her nightmares have gotten worse. That’s why she won’t always sleep, because she doesn’t know if someone is coming to get her.” His blinker clicks as he swaps lanes. “Last night I was exhausted. I never should have sent you down there to take care of her—”
“I didn’t mind,” I interrupt, fearing that I overstepped and he’s mad at me.
All he gives me is a small nod. “I know, but I’m saying in my sleepy stupor I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know your experience with kids. I wanted a few minutes to sleep.” His foot compresses the brake and my body shifts forward. “I wasn’t much better than her in that moment. When I woke up this morning, and you were gone, I realized that I’d sent you to take care of the single most important part of my life, without knowing all that much about you.”
The conversation has me thinking about jumping. We’ve taken a miserable turn and guilt is telling me that it’s all my fault.
“But I found you there, holding her, obviously you’d been there all night. You looked more like a mother to Rory than Samantha ever has.” Declan’s thumb runs over my knuckles. “Rory needs someone like you in her life. I need you.”
Words are trapped behind the emotion that clogs my throat. I can’t unlock one without releasing the other.
“Think about it,” Declan whispers as he pulls the car to the curb.
“Okay,” I say, but he can hear the tears.
“Hey,” the seats gasp as he shifts to face me, “it’s going to be okay either way, Max.”
There’s no way I can look him in the eye. Not when I know there’s no way this is going to be okay. Declan shoots one last glance into the back seat then kisses my lips when he knows his daughter is still out.
“I love you,” he whispers against my mouth. “That’s how I know it’ll be okay. I love you, Indigo.”
∞ ∞ ∞
I didn’t stay for dinner. How could I? If I was even a slightly respectable person, I’d make a break for it tonight. Disappear like some shady circus act. No, if I were a respectable person, I’d tell him the truth.
But I’m a coward.
Chapter 28
My guts are tied tight the next morning when I arrive at work. We’re not fighting, but I feel like Declan is confused. How could he not be? In his eyes, I keep reverting back to that girl who was terrified to commit, and yet that has nothing to do with what’s actually happening here.
I bury myself in work. Even when Delores and Shutter both try to peel me away for lunch, I stay put. I need to finish the accounts I’ve been working on so that Garnet’s company won’t feel the setback when I’m suddenly gone.
“Do you have the proofs ready?” Greg asks from behind my desk.
I jam my flash drive in my USB slot and transfer the Bridal World information he needs.
“Give it back when you’re done, okay?”
True to his character, Greg rolls his eyes as if I’m being difficult. But I bought that flash drive with money I earned. I don’t have much in this world, so what I do have I’d like to keep when everything falls apart. Besides. I have a couple pictures of Declan that I stored in the files. That’s what I’ll really want when I’m gone.
I’m late for the meeting with the Napa executives and I can’t miss Declan’s look of concern. He’s always afraid I’m going to become the Indigo from before. Not possible, but maybe the reality is worse.
Yvette Malley is the director of marketing and I take the seat directly across from her. “Ms. Malley, thank you for coming. I trust you were able to look over the changes for the final print?”
Greg stumbles in and jerks the seat out on the other side of Declan, slumping as if he’s finally home and about to watch TV. All a distraction. I’m not even sure why he’s here.
“No,” Yvette tells me. “I thought the final would be here at the meeting. Did you send it?”
I crane my head to stare down at Greg. It was his account. I’ve only taken point for him since he and Nix weren’t able to deliver what the client wanted. “Greg, did you send that final over yesterday?”
“Uhhh,” the sound burbling in Greg’s throat seems to go on forever. Annoyance for his unprofessional behavior burns in Declan’s eyes. “I thought you did. I don’t even have the final.”
“I sent it to you Monday,” I say through my clenched teeth. “With instructions to send it to the client.”
Greg shrugs as if it’s inconsequential. “Never got that email.”
Anger rises in my chest, but I remain professional. Through a tight smile I say, “I have a copy on my flash drive. I’ll get it.”
Declan pushes away before I can stand. “You stay here, talk about the brochures and commercial. I’ll go grab it.”
I sigh as I try to get my bearings again. “Sorry about this,” I say to Yvette. “I was out yesterday and I’m still trying to put life together.”
“Out, yeah right,” Greg says as though he’s in on the secret.
Declan’s head pops back in. “Where is it? The drive isn’t on your desk.”
“I put it in her purse,” Greg tells him just as I’m about to start on the presentation.
One more tight smile and then I spread open the brochure. “As you can see, we’ve carried the crushed grapes throughout the materials. Pearls hang from this final picture, but we took a chance and broke the strand, letting a few roll free. As if they’re busted like the grapes. But obviously, we can change that since it wasn’t discussed.”
Yvette takes the brochure from me and leans back in her chair letting her partner glance over her shoulder as they discuss the merits of what we’ve done. Declan has been gone far too long. He should’ve been able to grab the flash drive and come right back. After all, it’s only thirteen steps.
“I think we’re keeping it,” Yvette says. “It’s a little racy, but I like it. In the future, if it’s a problem, can we change it?”
“Sure,” I say, but panic is building inside of me and I’m not sure why. “Greg, will you play the commercial for them? I’m going to help Declan.”
For once, he doesn’t make a snide remark. He stands to explain our thought process while he’s turning off the lights. Meanwhile, I can’t explain why my hands are shaking.
It hits me all at once.
My purse. Greg put the drive in my purse.
Air eases out of my lungs as I turn the corner, but I can’t draw it back in. I’ve died. That’s the only explanation. I’m watching Declan hold my real ID in his hand, and the shock has killed me.
“Dec,” I start, but I don’t have words to explain this away. His gaze falls on mine, the expression on his face is somewhere between astonishment and horror.
“Dec, let me explain,” I try again.
His feet fumble beneath him as he moves from my desk. The contents of my purse spill over the low pile carpet, a confetti of discarded wrappers and receipts, and makeup I’ve stashed for touch ups. “No, no, you can’t explain this.”
“Please,” I say taking a step toward him. “Please I promise, I can—”
“No!” Declan shouts, and Delores’ head snaps up. “I can’t do this here, Max.” His eyes fall shut at the sound of my name. He thinks it’s another lie, but that’s the truth.
I am Max.
I am his.
None of that was a lie and if he’d just let me speak—
But he drops the bag and walks away, flash drive in hand. My breath finally falls out in a reverse gasp as I drop to collect my things.
“Trouble in paradise?” Delores asks from her side of the desk.
“We’re fine,” I say, but the tone says otherwise. Nothing about us is fine right now.
It’s over.
Nothing is holding me here.
It’s time to go.
∞ ∞ ∞
We finish the presentation. The account that nearly got me fired on the first day will likely make Indigo a hefty bonus. Not to mention Bridal World or the Devil’s Harp Ale account. But it doesn’t matter, because none of it was mine to begin with. I try to pull Declan aside before he leaves, a last-ditch effort, but his chair is empty when I arrive at his desk.
I thought he was, but he was never mine to begin with either.
The air is chilled as I step out to the street. Whether it’s me or the temperature, I’m not sure. My hair whips across my face. I’m finally used to the dark brown shade that belongs to Indigo. Mine was similar as a child, in my years before Reg, maybe that’s why it looks okay on me.
She’s there across the street, watching me again.
Indigo’s mother.
I take a step, but she pushes back into the crowd of people waiting on a light. My hand slams against the crosswalk button and I’m immediately rewarded with a changing walk sign. Fighting the people around me, I push to the front, closing the space between us. I need to know why she’s following me. Likely, she’s gathering evidence against me. The last thing I need is for the police to get involved.
But as I arrive at the corner, she’s gone, vanished once more into the crowd. Frustration presses down on me. No one will let me explain myself. If I could just have one minute to explain myself.
The irony is thick. I’ve had a few weeks to explain to people who I am. Fear kept me from my choice, and now there aren’t any choices left.
∞ ∞ ∞
Indigo has seven suitcases in her closet. Since I’ve paid her bills and kept her job afloat, I feel that I have right to at least one, plus a healthy amount of clothing. It’s not like she doesn’t have some to spare. Half of them still have tags.
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