Love & Ruin (The Love & Ruin Series Book 1)

by J. A. Owenby

  Preparing to leave hadn’t been difficult, and as far as I could tell, I hadn’t raised any suspicions. I’d cleaned the house and taken care of my own laundry for a long time now, which helped to conceal my plan. It was finding a duffel bag or suitcase neither Mom nor Dad would miss that had been a challenge. Dad traveled for work sometimes, but Mom was typically home unless she ran a quick errand, which made sneaking around almost impossible. On beautiful days like today, however, she’d garden, and it had allowed me time to search the closets without gaining unwanted attention.

  Even though I was nineteen, I was well aware leaving without telling my parents would scare the shit out of them. It certainly wasn’t my intention, but my father believed it was God’s will for me to continue to live at home where I was safe. I’d already hidden behind his beliefs for far too long. I also knew he would stop me from walking out of the house if he caught wind of my plans.

  Unfortunately, it meant Ada Lynn was my partner in crime, and my parents would be left with nothing but a note. I was a shitty person. However, I’d learned the hard way that some decisions must be based on survival, not Dad’s religious beliefs. I had to decide my past would no longer hold me hostage. Refusing to allow it to have power over me and finally doing something about it were two different things. So until my ass was on the bus and too far away to turn back, my pep talks were just a load of crap.

  I tucked the duffel bag in my closet and slipped out the kitchen door into the backyard. Mom’s floppy, flowered hat bobbed up and down as she dug in the dirt with her spade. For whatever reason, she loved her hats, and for a change it was in my favor. I’d packed the least offensive two I’d found in the utility room and carefully arranged the remaining ones so she wouldn’t notice the missing few for a while.

  “How’s the garden?” I approached her.

  “Better this year,” she responded without stopping.

  “The flowers look nice. You did a great job. You’ve always had a green thumb.”

  Her hand paused mid-dig, and she glanced up at me. “Why the sudden interest?”

  “No reason. It just looks nice.” I fidgeted for a moment, feeling guilty for withholding my plans from her.

  Her eyes narrowed and her mouth curved into a small smile. “Thank you. It’s good therapy. Would you like to join me?”

  Hesitation tugged at me for a moment while I pondered the invitation. I had no idea when I’d be back, so I needed to spend the time with her.

  “Sure, I can help for a bit. Don’t forget I’ll be at Ada Lynn’s for dinner tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Thanks for reminding me,” she said, handing me another spade. “Grab one of my hats from the laundry room. You’ll need it to protect your fair skin from the sun.”

  I nodded and hurried inside, taking the first one I saw. Other than Ada Lynn’s porch, I’d not spent a lot of time outside and never in the direct sunlight. Placing it on my head, I adjusted it and grimaced. Regardless of how much I despised it, I’d have to get used to them.

  I tucked my hair into the hat and peered into the small square mirror hanging on the wall next to the door, my shoulders slumping forward with the look. It was awful.

  Thankfully, my hair had lightened to a coppery red as I’d grown older. According to Mom, the only red hair in my family was my Aunt Kim’s dark red pubes, and for years I had agonized over the fact it had somehow ended up on my head. When it had lightened, it brought much-needed mental relief. Especially when Aunt Kim visited, and I could focus on spending time with her instead of staring at her in horror.

  The same year my life turned upside down, Aunt Kim passed away suddenly from an aneurysm. One moment she was talking to a co-worker and the next she had dropped dead on her office floor.

  Mom had never fully recovered from the sudden loss. Maybe if I left, she would be able to move on as the constant reminder of everything she’d lost would no longer stare her in the face.

  I made my way back outside, inhaled the sunshine and summer air, and knelt next to Mom. For the next hour and a half, we dug in the dirt and tended the garden in silence. And for the first time since I could remember, it wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful. I’d tuck this memory in my heart and cherish it forever.

  * * *

  Ada Lynn’s kitchen was barely large enough to hold the two of us. She sat at the small, four-person square table in the middle of the floor while I worked at the stove, boiling noodles, and making her favorite spaghetti sauce. I’d opted to use her countertop toaster for the garlic bread. Even with the air conditioning, it was too hot to turn on the oven.

  “You ready for your trip?” Ada Lynn asked while I strained the noodles.

  “No.” My chest tightened as I placed the plate in front of her, pulled out a chair, and joined her.

  “It won’t be easy, but remember I’m only a phone call away.”

  “What if I can’t do it?” I stared down at my spaghetti.

  “You can do it. And when you’re so scared you think you’re going to puke your dinner up, you just remember if you come back, you’ll never leave again. So don’t. Don’t come back for a long spell. Nothing ever changes 'round here anyway. So what in God’s name would you miss?”

  “You,” I muttered, twirling noodles around my fork.

  Ada Lynn’s hand found mine and squeezed.

  “Promise me you’ll make it. There’s only one thing I want to see before I pass on, Gemma. I want to see you moving forward and living your best life. Do it for an old woman. Email me updates and pictures of your beautiful smile and new friends. I’m not great on the computer, but you taught me how to email, so it will work out just fine.”

  My attention dropped to my plate and traveled back to her. Her eyes glistened, and tears welled in mine.

  “Promise,” she said, sternly.

  “Promise.” My pulse raced with my word. She knew I’d do everything in my power to keep it.

  “All right then, let’s eat. I’ve got a bit of a treat for us.” A mischievous grin spread across her face as we returned to our food for a minute.

  “You know where to find my extra car key. Just lock it up and park it at the bus station. They don’t know it yet, but your mom and dad will help me pick it up and bring it back home. Hell, I hope it starts.” She chuckled, spinning noodles around her fork.

  My brows shot up. “Why wouldn’t it? I started it last week and let it run.”

  “I know. However, the car is almost as old as I am.”

  “No, it’s not.” I rolled my eyes at her and we smiled. “I’m going to miss you most of all,” I said, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach.

  “Likewise. And I’m not going anywhere yet, so I expect weekly updates.”

  “You got it.”

  We finished dinner and Ada Lynn directed me to her top cabinet.

  “Right there, the jar. Get it down and grab some glasses.”

  When I rejoined her at the table, I twisted the lid and opened the glass container, peeking inside. If I’d been able to see my own expression, I probably would have broken into a fit of giggles.

  “What the hell?” I peered at her from the corner of my eye.

  “Moonshine,” she chuckled, taking it from me and pouring a little into each glass.

  “Ada Lynn, are you trying to get me drunk on my last night in Louisiana?”

  “You’ll be fine, just don’t drink it fast. Besides, I’m not giving you much.”

  I raised the glass and sniffed it. My focus cut over to her as she took a drink and shuddered.

  “Go on now.” She waved at me to hurry up.

  “It’s a good thing I’m leaving. You’re a bad influence,” I teased. Sucking in a quick breath, I took a drink. My cheeks flamed with the heat rising up my neck and ears as the alcohol burned down my throat and into my stomach. Seconds later, a fireball worked its way back up, depleting my mouth of any air and moisture. A coughing fit followed, and Ada Lynn patted me on the back.

  “Prett
y tasty, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” I sputtered between coughs.

  “Of course not. Just a bit of toughening up before you leave. Try it again, it’ll go down easier.”

  I took a small sip and grimaced, but I didn’t hack up a lung this time. Progress.

  Another hour ticked by as we talked, and she sipped her alcohol. Two tastes had been enough, and I was positive they would last me a lifetime.

  The mood grew solemn, and before I realized it, it was time for me to head back home. There were only four more hours before I slipped out the front door and drove away. Nausea swirled in the pit of my stomach, my dinner and drink churning.

  “It’s time,” I said.

  My chair scraped across the linoleum floor as I scooted away from the table, watching her while she leaned against it and stood slowly. I wrapped my arm around her and embraced her.

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  “Good luck.” Her warm breath tickled my ear while her arms wrapped around me. I leaned down and hugged her for a full minute. Letting her go had never been an option before. Tears streamed down my cheeks and into her thin hair.

  “I love you, Ada Lynn. Thank you for believing in me,” I whispered.

  “Love you too, my blue-eyed girl. You call when you reach the school so I don’t worry myself to death.”

  “Yes ma’am.” We stepped away, and she squeezed my hand in hers, and then released me.

  “Go, now. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Our tears flowed freely as I stepped away, grief seeping deep into my bones. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, gave her a small wave, and left her standing in the kitchen—alone.

  The door closed behind me, and I made sure it was locked before I sat down in my chair on her porch and quietly sobbed into my hands. How in the world would I get through each day without Ada Lynn? I hated the thought of leaving her behind. Stepping onto that bus tomorrow was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever done.

  In the back of my mind, Ada Lynn’s voice broke through my whirlwind of emotions, reminding me I’d made her a promise. After everything she’d given me, I owed it to her to do the best I could—give her what she wanted before she left this world.

  My body shuddered with one last cry, and I sucked in a deep breath. Standing, I threw my shoulders back, walked off her porch, and to my house. The distinct aroma of Dad’s cigars filled the night air. Shit, he was outside on the porch. Had he heard me crying? At least the darkness would hide my tear-stained cheeks.

  “Hey, Gemma. How was dinner?” he asked as I hopped up the front porch steps and sat in the cedar porch swing next to him.

  “It was fun. I made her favorite, spaghetti.”

  “That was sweet of you.” He puffed on his cigar, the embers glowing brightly.

  An image of the packed-up boxes flashed across my mind. Should I ask him? It was probably no big deal. He had most likely just cleaned things out, donating the items or something. Besides, if he knew I’d been in there, he’d realize I had the letter. He couldn’t know I actually did have the letter until I was far from home in another state.

  “How’s work?”

  Dad paused for a minute. “Haven’t wanted to say anything, but I lost my job.”

  “What? I thought you were working last night at the table.” I gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to worry. You have enough on your plate, and I want you to focus on college.”

  The packed boxes, now I understood.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Well, I’ll search for another job. I have a few leads already. Most companies have an operations position or something similar, so it’ll be fine. I suspect the interviews will come in next week. I mean it. Don’t worry. We’ve got money put back in case of an emergency, so we’re fine.”

  “Really? You’re not just saying it?” I asked, chewing on my thumbnail, attempting to contain my nerves. A small part of me hoped this was my excuse to stay.

  “No, we really are okay.” He offered a sad, reassuring smile.

  After mulling over what he’d said, I realized this was one more reason why it was time for me to leave. He’d supported me long enough. I needed to figure out how to take care of myself now.

  “Okay. I trust if we were in trouble, you’d tell me. I’m going to try and get some sleep. Are you coming in soon?” I paused and waited for him to reply.

  “In a bit. I’m going to finish my stogie then I’ll be on in. Night, honey.”

  I stood, leaned over, and kissed him on his forehead. “Night. Love you, Dad.”

  “You too. And Gemma, we’re going to be fine, you have my word.”

  Our eyes locked briefly before I nodded and turned away to enter the house. Guilt nagged at me for not telling him I was leaving. If all went well, though, he’d find out in the morning. I hoped he’d see it as a positive thing, one less burden to carry, but he was a strong proponent for me never leaving and remaining tucked away for the rest of my life. If it were only that simple.

  Mom’s soft snore came from the couch when I entered the house. My lips pursed. How would I leave if she continued to sleep there? I watched as her chest rose and fell, my heart aching while I planned my next move. She deserved so much better than the hand she’d been dealt.

  I crept down the hall and brushed my teeth for the last time in my bathroom. Tears blurred my vision as I rinsed my mouth and gazed in the mirror. My blue eyes were one of my best features, other than my now copper red hair. I pulled on my ponytail holder, allowing my soft, loose curls to flow over my shoulder. Since it was red, I’d planned to hide it underneath Mom’s hats while on the college campus in Spokane, Washington. Thank God she had a few plain denim choices instead of all that floral. There was no way I wanted to attract attention, and I assumed with the cold weather a lot of people wore hats. Honestly, I just wanted to keep my head down and concentrate on my degree. I would have enough to adjust to with sharing a room and people around me on a regular basis. Not to mention dealing with four actual seasons.

  Ever since I'd made the decision to go to Spokane, my heart hadn't stopped trying to escape my chest.

  I flipped off the bathroom light and walked toward my bedroom. Dad’s deep tone carried down the hallway while he woke Mom up and guided her to their room. A sigh of relief escaped me. I was grateful I wouldn’t have to try and sneak past her out the front door.

  I peeked at my alarm clock. The countdown had officially started. One hour gave me enough time to pack the remaining items that would have caused my parents to raise an eyebrow. I had to be painfully quiet and make sure to not wake them, though. Unplugging my clock, I shoved it in my oversized duffel along with my bedspread and pillows. It amazed me how much I could stuff in the bag.

  Dinner churned in my stomach. Saying I was terrified was by far an understatement. I was scared shitless. But every night I stared at these walls, I died inside a little more. Whatever it took, I had to learn to live again. Not only for me, but for Mom, Dad, and Ada Lynn.

  Midnight. It was finally time to leave. With shaking hands, I shoved my toiletries into the last bit of space in my bag. The sound of the zipper echoed in my stripped clean room. I hoped like hell I could lift it. It hadn’t even crossed my mind until now.

  I scanned the room one last time, a single tear slipping down my face. Inhaling sharply, I grabbed my duffel, stepped out, and closed the door gently behind me. My eyes adjusted to the darkness as I glanced toward my parents’ room. Thankfully, all was still. I crept my way through the hall and into the kitchen, grabbing the container of food I’d prepared with snacks for the trip. If Ada Lynn hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten to take any food at all.

  My hand trembled as I placed the note on the kitchen table. They would see it after they poured their mugs full of coffee and sat down in the morning. My throat tightened. If I didn’t leave now, I’d find myself within the
safe walls of my room again, unpacking instead of walking toward a new life.

  “Goodbye,” I whispered.

  A few minutes later I tossed my duffel bag on the front seat of Ada Lynn’s car and slipped inside.

  “Please start, please start,” I muttered, inserting the key and giving the ignition a turn. To my relief, the car roared to life.

  Light shattered the darkness when Mrs. Brownstein's porch light flicked to life. I squinted against the brightness and remained still as she peered through her living room window in my direction. Clutching the curtains around her neck, she looked like a disembodied ghost keeping watch over the neighborhood.

  With newfound courage, I shifted into reverse and backed the fifteen-year-old Cadillac out of Ada Lynn’s driveway. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I slipped it into drive, my foot pressing the accelerator. I wiped at the tears, cleared my vision, turned on the radio, and drove the ten minutes to the bus station. As I focused on the dashboard clock, I realized I would barely make it. Panic shot through me.

  I couldn't miss my bus! I pushed harder on the accelerator, exceeding the speed limit. Thankfully it was late, and the streets were empty.

  I let out a shaky breath when I saw I'd made it in time—the bus was still at the station.

  After parking the car, I quickly grabbed my bag, jumped out, and hit the lock button on the key fob. I'd mail it back to Ada Lynn as planned after I got settled.

  "Hey!" I yelled when I saw the bus doors folding shut. "Wait! No!"

  My feet pounded the pavement, but the weight of the duffel slamming into my legs was too much.

  Everything moved in slow motion, right before I smacked into the asphalt, face first. Pain shot through my body, but the cry which escaped my lungs was caused by the sight of the bus slowly moving forward.

  I shoved myself up and waved my arm in the air, hoping someone would notice me and stop the driver.