by Susan Renee
Solving Us
Susan Renee
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Works by Susan Renee
Original Copyright 2015 by Susan Renee
ISBN-13: 978-1518884283
ISBN-10: 1518884288
Cover art created by Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae
Editors: Devon Anderson, Lauren Brocchi, M. Joyce Camlin
Formatting: Douglas M. Huston
All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft. For use of any part of this book please contact the publisher at [email protected] for written consent.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is coincidental.
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics mentioned throughout the novel SOLVING US are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of various trademarks, wordmarks, products, individuals and entities referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark or wordmark owners.
To Peg Flynn
I believe God places people in our lives for a reason.
Thank you for changing mine with one unexpected gift.
I would absolutely not be the person I am now
had I never opened it, taken the leap, and started to read.
Prologue
“She looks like some sort of zombie freak now.”
“I don’t think this is working anymore.”
“She used to be so pretty. Pity, really.”
“It’s not you, Liv, it’s me.”
“I wonder what happened to her.”
“I’ll always care about you. I just feel like we’re moving in different directions.”
“Who would want to put a hickey on top of those scars? I mean, is that even possible?”
“It’s not like we were getting married or anything.”
“Yeah, she’ll never see any action. No guy wants that when he can have someone who looks...normal.”
“We’re both headed to college soon, Liv. It’s bound to happen anyway.”
“Maybe instead of modeling, she should think about being a makeup artist. She’s going to need some help covering that up.”
People can be so mean.
1
“Liv? Are you coming out of there anytime soon? I have to get ready for work.” The knock on the bathroom door brings me back to my senses. I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror for too long.
“Yeah sorry,” I tell her as I run my hand down my neck, my right side, and over my hips. The scars are pretty faded now at my neck and shoulder but still not invisible. The largest ones on my stomach, hip, and right thigh, though, are dark enough to see that I look like a woman with tiger stripes on half of my body. It has been years, but sometimes I just can’t help but stare at myself. It is a constant reminder of the pain and torture and loss that completely changed my life. Autumn and winter are now my favorite seasons for the sheer fact that I can be covered up for months, but summer will be here before I know it. I am finally comfortable with some tank tops, but shorts or short skirts are still out of the question. Nobody needs to see these legs.
“You’re not staring at yourself in the mirror again are you?” Abby groans from the other side of the door.
What the?
Is she psychic or something?
I dart my eyes all over the bathroom walls and behind the mirror to see if there is a camera in here that maybe I don’t know about. I really try hard to not look at myself so much when she is around. Although we are best friends, Abby and I, there are just parts of my life that I don’t want to worry her about, and this is one of them. Who cares if I have some scars, right? It’s been years. No big deal….to everyone but me.
“Olivia?” Abby asks gently as she softly knocks on the door prompting me to answer her. “Can I come in?”
I wrap my body with my towel quickly and open the door while trying to wipe the lone tear that falls from my eye, careful not to reveal the evidence of my personal pity party. Abby steps in the bathroom hesitantly, and when she looks into my eyes, I can’t hide my thoughts. Her head tilts as she looks at me knowingly. “Spill it girl. You used to do this all the time in college when you were feeling down. We’ve been friends far too long for you to feel the need to keep secrets.”
“I know, and I’m sorry I monopolized the bathroom - and the hot water,” I cringe. “Rough morning, I guess. You would think after seven years I would be over this shit, and most of the time I don’t even think about it but today…well, you know...seven years ago I left that hospital a different person, and I just…” I take a deep breath and blow it out glancing back in the mirror at my pained and sad reflection. “I was just thinking about life and throwing myself a pity party.”
Abby nods and smiles at me, but I know she’s ready to debate the validity of my emotions. “I looked at the calendar, Liv; I know what day it is, but you know what?”
“What?”
“April twenty-fifth comes every year, Liv. Yeah, it’s been seven years, but at some point you do have to let it go and move on. You’re a survivor, Liv. On all accounts you should’ve died that day, but you didn’t. You lived, Olivia, and you have so much to be happy about! You graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design at the top of your class! You moved out here with me. Everyone loves your work. You’re such a talented photographer. You really see people! You capture your environment with ease. You’re bound to find the perfect job! You have great friends, a family who loves you so what’s the problem? Any guy would be lucky to find you, and he will, soon! I have a good feeling about you being here in Boston with me. We’ll paint the town red together, or purple, if you would rather!”
Catching a glimpse of my neck and shoulders that are not covered by my towel in the mirror, I whisper, “Any guy would be lucky to find me, as long as he never has to lay eyes on my baggage.”
I roll my eyes partly at Abby for thinking I’m some sort of catch and partly at myself. I know I am just being emotional and feeling insecure. I just can’t get myself to snap out of it today. Abby hugs me as she says, “Olivia Grace McGuire, the only person who looks at those
scars and sees you as anything other than beautiful is you. I mean, I understand you were picked on in high school, but kids are stupid douchebags sometimes, and,” she says nodding towards my neck. “Your top scars are all but invisible now. You were young; they were young. Girls, especially at that age, can be bitches, but you got through four years of college without much problem. You’ve grown up. Seriously, do I need to pull out my cheesy lines about how beautiful you are inside and out because you’ve heard them a hundred times?”
“I know. You’re not telling me anything I haven’t heard before from Mom and Dad, but I’m a single twenty-four year old. Guys seem to like what they see until they try to get to second base. My body makes guys uncomfortable the closer they get. I strike out every time. Remember Chris in college our sophomore year, the guy from my Studio Photography class? That was a nice couple of dates. He told me he liked me, that I was beautiful - until he got my shirt off,” I shake my head as I continue. “He tried to act like it didn’t bother him, but you’ll never convince me that I wasn’t the reason we broke up. I was just another notch on his bedpost.”
I frown at my reflection in the mirror. “It’s not you it’s me,” I recite. “I think I’ve heard that one about four times since high school. Speaking of which, do I need to bring up Archer?”
Abby’s head snaps in my direction. “Archer? The guy you dated in high school? The one who cheated on you? Honey that was….”
“Seven years ago,” I said. “Yeah, I remember. He used to think I was beautiful, too, but even my steady high school sweetheart couldn’t handle my physical changes after the accident. That’s not love,” I dismiss, shaking my head in disappointment. “Me and guys and love...maybe it’s just not for me, ya know?” I shrug like it’s no big deal, even though my heart feels heavy.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it Liv,” Abby argues shaking her head. “Not that I’m defending Archer because I know he hurt you; and as your present-day BFF, if I ever meet this guy, his balls are going to meet my foot with my favorite pointy shoes on.” It makes me laugh because I know just how much Abby loves her very pointy, very high heeled pumps. She has a bit of a shoe fetish. She can’t live without the newest pair of Jimmy Choos.
Abby continues, “But...he was just as young as you, Liv. People change in time. They grow up a lot. I would like to think Archer isn’t that insensitive now, though maybe you’ll never know, and that’s okay. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as they say.”
I sigh and close my eyes for a moment before shaking my head to snap out of my funk. “I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t mean to turn this morning into a ‘pity me’ morning. You’re right. I know, I just….”
“Haven’t found your knight in shining armor yet.” Abby shrugs. “He’ll come. You’ll find yourself a great job and meet someone who will love you for you and make you feel like the Cinderella that you are; I can just feel it! Your focus just needs to be on losing your insecurities and embracing who you are! I love you for you. All your friends love you for you, or they wouldn’t be your friends. Shit happens to us, and it sucks when it does, but that doesn’t mean we have to let it define us. Until that happens, don’t be so afraid to live a little! Go have fun in the city, date several guys, have lots of sex! Find a great job that you love.”
I turn and give Abby a huge hug. “And let’s hope that job comes sooner than later ‘cause our rent isn’t going to pay itself.”
“Damn right, it’s not girl. Don’t worry, though, I’ll just be your sugar mama for a while.”
I smirk at her and run a brush through my hair before heading into my bedroom to get dressed for the day. Before she starts the shower and can’t hear me, I shout down the hall “Thanks for the confidence boost breakfast, Abs! I love you.”
“Right back at ya girlfriend. That’s what friends are for!”
Abby and I graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design a year ago and wanted to move together from Providence to Boston in hopes of landing great jobs and living the dream together. Abby landed an internship with an interior design firm out of Boston before we graduated, so she already had a plan. I hadn’t really found what I was looking for, so I spent two years at home making a little money with the local newspaper as a freelance photographer so that I could afford to live away from home on my own. Newspaper photography jobs are starting to dissipate now that the digital sharing world thrives, so I knew it was time to take a leap and put my skills to the test. It was nice to ‘flee the nest’ as the say and begin to live a life of my own, and my BFF Abby was just the person I wanted to share it with, at least for now. After four years of rooming together in college, we know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. We complement each other well and can help pull each other through our depressing life moments. I know her favorite ice cream flavor is Rocky Road and always have it available when Abby goes through her latest break-up or bad day at the office. And she knows ,when I feel down, I either want to blast my music, sing really loud, and dance away the stress, or I want a snuggly blanket, a bowl of Hershey Kisses, a tall glass of milk, and a good chick flick. I think we both have the lines to the Princess Bride completely memorized by now.
From our apartment, we can see the Charles River, which leads into the beautiful Boston Harbor. Really, for the price, we can’t ask for a much better view every day. The owner of this particular apartment community is a friend of Abby’s parents, so she got a nice deal on a two- bedroom apartment with the understanding that she would use her interior design skills to help outfit some of the business luxury apartments at the top of our building. She was all too thrilled to accept, and so far, it’s worked out for her.
Our apartment is a great fit for Abby and me in that we are close to the social life and have many amenities we both take advantage of, like the gym, the pool, the outdoor grilling area, etc. We both enjoy being outside and both are social people, she more so than I. We’re acquainted with many people throughout our building and many in the surrounding apartment community. My only wish is that the building weren’t pet-friendly. Yes, I used to be a dog person and spent my entire life around animals, but now? Now I feel like every dog that sees me smells my fear.
2
I decide to get dressed and go for a walk through the park, maybe down to the river to take some pictures. I’m aching to try out one of my new lenses that I received as a going away present from my parents. I throw on my Capris and favorite blue and white striped t-shirt, slip on my grey jersey flats, grab my camera and wallet, and walk out the door. Taking the elevator down to the lobby, I quickly exit through the front doors of the building, greeting a few of my neighbors who are just getting back from their morning runs. I slept in too late for my run, so I vow to myself that I will do it tonight before dinner.
I lift my chin for a moment and take in the sights and sounds around me, something I’m getting good at in order to find the right photo opportunity. It’s a beautiful late spring day. The sun is already past sunrise stage and is beginning to heat things up for the day. It’s supposed to be an unseasonably warm day, though the breeze off the harbor always knocks the temperature down a few degrees. I can smell freshly cut grass from the neighboring quad next to the building, and along the walkways are tons and tons of fresh daffodils. Those suckers pop up everywhere in the springtime. Just like dandelions that scatter yards like weeds throughout the summertime. Birds are chirping animatedly amongst themselves and are flurrying about, most likely creating their nests for the season.
There are a few boats preparing to leave their port for a day on the water and a few more I can see already heading for the harbor.
Today would be a great day to spend in the water
Taking a nice deep breath and closing my eyes momentarily, I put behind me all of my morning depression and begin my walk in hopes of finding that picture perfect opportunity.
People watching is one of my favorite things to do behind a camera lens. I try to tell a story with the pictures I capture, and from the revi
ews I have received of my work in the past, it seems like I have a good eye for really seeing people for who they are. Good judge of character? I don’t know; I suppose the guys who waltzed into, but ran out of, my life would be evidence to the contrary, but at least I know how to take a good picture. I stand in the middle of a grassy quad in the park a few yards away from my apartment building and begin to shoot picture after picture. First, there is the old couple sharing a coffee on the nearby park bench. They look so much in love. I hope one day I’ll find that guy who shares his everything with me, or at least a good cup of coffee. I turn around and spot a woman sitting on the grass with her little boy who can’t be more than a year old, maybe two. She and the boy are singing pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, and he is all giggles. The little boy’s mom lifts him up high above her head and brings him back down blowing little kisses on his tummy as he giggles and writhes in her arms. It puts a smile on my face, and I snap the picture quickly hoping she won’t think I’m some sort of voyeur.
Soon I am immersed in taking picture after picture: snapping, checking my camera, editing out the bad pictures, and continuing. I sit down on the ground when I spot a small chipmunk sitting just across the path from me. I don’t want to scare him, but he just sits there as if he is posing for me. I crouch as low as I can to the ground without startling him and begin to snap pictures of the little animal. He moves a few times, and it looks as if he is holding some sort of morsel of food to his mouth. Second breakfast, I guess.
I watch the chipmunk run away and bring my camera down from my face just in time to witness the most heart stopping moment I have had in…well…I can’t remember ever experiencing this feeling before. I don’t usually make it a habit of gawking at people, but in this case, I don’t know what comes over me. He is gorgeous! He is hot! I don’t know who he is, but he is shirtless and running towards me on the path next to where I’m crouching. I couldn’t not notice him if I tried. His body is long and lean, his chest toned and showing off his clear six-pack? Eight pack? Wow, I feel bad trying to count, but his chest just draws my eyes to him like a moth to a porch light. The sheen of sweat on his chest and abs gives him a sexy glow that I can’t help but admire. His biceps are like two huge boulders that I would never be able to get my hands around, but I wouldn’t mind holding onto them as long as I could. They flex effortlessly as he swings his arms in his natural forward movement.