Derek Kelling was the most famous architect in the area, designing everything from the new hospital to the restroom area at the park. He loved being famous, having people gush over his designs and compliment him just to say they’d talk to him. He went to social gatherings with a cocky grin on his face and a strut to his walk. He exuded over confidence in every aspect of his life. Unfortunately, he failed to ever grasp parenthood.
I loathed him for it.
After the fight last night, and not having a drink to help me along, I was dreading this morning. I rolled out of my childhood bed, groaning as my feet touched the cold hardwood floor. Not much had changed since my teenage years. My walls still had rock posters and a few scantily clad women on them, the bed still had a navy blue bed cover that my mom had insisted I use, even though I said it was too much for a "man" my age. I was fine with just a blanket, but mom always got what mom wanted.
I trudged my way to the bathroom down the hall, rubbing the sleep from my eye on the way. Hearing dishes clanking downstairs, I knew my parents were up and at it already. I probably wasn't lucky enough for my father to already be gone. Slamming the bathroom door, I relieved myself after I turned on the water to steam the shower. It rolled off of me, giving me the pick-me-up I needed to get going. Allowing the towel to hang on my hips, I sulked back to the bedroom, careful to not make any noise.
I dressed, the pants too big just as I told Pops they would be. I frantically searched for a belt, but came up empty handed. I hurried across the hall to Cason's old bedroom, praying he had an old one left behind. Finding nothing, I walked down the steps to ask my father for something else, yet again. The smell of bacon, toast, and oranges filled my nostrils, making my stomach growl in appreciation. I stepped through the doorway, finding my father sitting with his back to me and the newspaper lifted in front of his face. My mother smiled when she saw me. A smile that lit up the whole room and made the skin around her eyes crinkle. I moved forward, lifting a plate down from the cabinet and filling it heartily with the breakfast foods my mother had created. Pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I strode to the table and took a seat beside my only ally. "Hey, Mom. Good morning," I said, giving her a side hug from my chair.
"Morning, Cade. Sleep well?"
I nodded, breaking off a piece of the bacon and crunching on it. It was crispy just like I liked it.
"Hello, son," Pops said, disdain dripping from his voice.
"Pops."
"You're just going to ignore me?" he questioned, folding the newspaper and laying it beside him.
I shrugged. At this point, I had nothing I wanted to say to him and I certainly didn't want to talk about everything that happened last night. "No. I need a belt," I stated as I smeared butter on my toast.
He humphed and rose. "Your mother is taking you to your appointment. Don't be late. And Jane," he said, looking to my mother, "don't let him bully you into letting him miss this."
"I don't bully her, Pops," I said, my voice rising.
He ignored me, staring pointedly at my mom.
"Don't worry about us, Derek. We'll be fine," she said, her voice firm.
Jane Kelling didn't take anyone's crap, including her husband's. He glared at her for another minute or two, then stormed out of the house without telling either of us goodbye.
At twenty after eight, we were in Mom's Jetta and rolling down the street. I convinced her to allow me to run in my apartment and change clothes. This crap outfit Pops had given me was not going to cut it. I didn't want to moon anyone at the meeting. We pulled into the apartment complex, and I rushed up the steps, clinging to the pants so they wouldn’t show my mom my much grown up ass. She changed my diapers, yes, but that was long ago.
Shuffling through the clothes in my floor, I threw the top layer onto the bed, desperate to find the pants. Wrinkled or not, I had to wear them today. Pops probably told the hot shots all about how undependable I was. The need to prove him wrong ran deep within me. Yelling in victory, I put on the pants I finally found, splashing water on them so hopefully they would straighten out some on the ride over. I slid on the white shirt, finishing the buttons as I bound down the steps back to Mom’s car. Once inside, I rolled the sleeves to my elbows, and spouted off the address Pops had left for me. “154 North Elm Street.”
The streets passed as we made our way across town. Stopping abruptly at a red-light, I shot my arm out to brace myself against the dash. Mom spouted out something that sounded like a curse. Turning to glance out the window, I smirked. She wouldn’t be too happy if I did it in front of her after one of her rare moments of anger. The pancake house on the street was full of people bounding in and out to stuff their stomachs. I noticed one woman in particular…something about her was so familiar. Her long, full legs peaked out of one of those longer, tight skirts. Her hair was a dirty blonde and she carried herself with a confidence most women didn’t have. She could have been her twin. But I knew it couldn’t be the woman I’d lost my heart to long ago. There was no way. She had left town not long after the accident that I couldn’t seem to drink away. Watching her disappear into the door made my mind drift to another time.
9 years prior-September
I’d watched her every day since school began. She moved with grace and confidence, yet I could see hurt behind her eyes when she surveyed her surroundings. I didn’t know who would want to hurt a beautiful creature like her, but it angered me. A lot. I watched her from a distance for as long as I could, until the longing in my heart to hear her voice speaking to me was too much.
I knew it was stupid and reckless to bring myself into her life. I was the worst kind of guy for her, into all the wrong things, but something about her made me want to be…more. The first time I saw her beautiful face was during lunch. She was stuck in a little hole in the wall, her nose deep into a book. Her dark blonde hair fell around her face, and she absent mindedly pushed it behind her ear, not once looking up from her book. People walked around her, came close to stepping on her, completely ignored her…and all I could do was stare. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Two weeks after that, I’d followed her bus to the next bus stop. I prayed to be the one driving her home someday soon.
As I approached, she hadn’t moved. She leaned back against the bench, her eyes furiously devouring the book she gripped. After I finally got her attention, my heart had almost stopped when her deep, rich brown eyes looked into mine. Her voice sounded like it came from heaven, her words singing a song to my heart. I laid a hand on her leg, the sparks shooting straight into my soul.
9 years prior-October
I’d followed her to the bus stop every day since then. The week after our first meeting, I’d gotten the nerve to meet her at her locker. She was bent in, rummaging through her belongings, when I slid up and relaxed behind the door. I heard her groan as a book fell to the floor. I scooped in to pick it up, smiling at her as I handed it over. Her eyes widened as she whispered my name.
“Francesca.”
“Cade…you never talk to me in school,” she accused me.
It stung. It was true. I didn’t want my friends getting the wrong idea or anyone saying things to her about how screwed up I was. It was selfish, and it appeared to hurt her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you wanted to…” I admitted, taking her book bag from her.
“What are you doing?” she questioned, eyeing my hand.
“Walking you to class?”
Her eyes stared down, and a small smile curved on her gorgeous face. She peered up at me, her lashes dark and framing her eyes perfectly. My breath caught when she did that. She walked around me, turning a few steps away to make sure I followed.
“Of course I want to. We’re friends, right?” she said, sauntering off.
Her voice hummed in my mind, sending smoke signals to my heart. I think I would have followed her anywhere. I’d walk off a cliff if it’s where she led.
Present Day
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br /> “Cade?” my mom asked, her voice concerned as she shook my arm.
I snapped my head to look at her, coming back from my memories. “Yeah?”
“Are you ok? You don’t have to be worried about this. It will be fine. Derek wouldn’t tell them the things he says to you, he has too much pride for that. Just cooperate, ok?”
I nodded, happy she thought I was worried about the meeting and not the single most important person in my world. The person I had ruined everything with.
She glided the car into a parking spot, not even moving the gear shift. She peered at me, a nervous dance in her eyes. “Cade…”
“Stop, Mom. Don’t be like, Pops. I’ve got this. I’m gonna go in so I’m early though. Show some initiative.” I reached over, giving her a slight hug and peck on the cheek. Stepping out, I straightened my pants and entered the restaurant. After giving my name to the hostess, I was led to a small room in the back that was closed off for privacy. I sat nervously jiggling my leg and glancing at the clock every few minutes. At five before 9 a.m., the door opened and I glanced up. She stood there, looking as gorgeous as she did on the day we met. Her face showed no emotion as she entered and stuck her hand out to shake mine. I didn’t move.
I couldn’t move.
The love of my life, Francesca Taymon, stood in front of me, staring into my soul with her deep brown eyes.
Mangled Hearts Page 4