All Who Dream (Letting Go) (16 page)

I stared at her,
open-mouthed, as she giggled.

“Mom—heads up!” Cody
yelled, as the soccer ball sailed toward our bench. I reacted quickly, catching
it before it hit
Pippy
squarely in the face.

“Good catch!” Peter called
to us.

I threw the ball back out
to them, wondering if someday I might be a good catch for someone, too.

Despite
my best efforts, I couldn’t forget
Pippy’s
words.

His face was like that of a man who had just
woken up from a long slumber. He’s different with you.

I stood,
looking out the window from my fourteenth floor apartment and stared into the
inky backdrop of a city that seemed to be in a constant adrenaline rush. There
were lights, traffic, noise and movement everywhere I looked. Cody had fallen
asleep an hour ago with a book on his face, obviously exhausted. I was grateful
that Peter had worn him out earlier. Physical exertion was a necessity to a
young, growing boy.

I’d spent
some time answering voicemails after our quick trip to the grocery store
earlier. It was only a block away. The walk, though hot, was nice.

It was
good to catch up, especially with Maggie. She filled me in on the recent
happenings at
The Refuge
and was
elated to hear about my upcoming television interview on The Eastman Morning
Show. Rosie had told her about it, naturally. Maggie’s voice always seemed to
instill in me a sense of peace and comfort whenever I spoke with her. And as
the founder of
The Refuge
, I knew
many other women felt the same way I did about her. Our connection was the
closest thing I had to a mother/daughter relationship, and I cherished her
greatly. Her advice was always sound, honest, and wise.

As she
told me about last week’s meeting, I was reminded of Jenny—the young woman who
had called me a couple weeks back. Maggie let out a deep sigh when I mentioned
her. I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

“Rosie
has put in several calls to her this last week…she hasn’t responded,” Maggie
said.

“But
Rosie spoke with her right after she moved in with her Aunt in Oklahoma,
right?”

“Yes, I
hope she’s just busy adjusting to her new home,” Maggie said, worry lacing her
words.

She
didn’t need to say more. I knew what
more
could be said. I closed my eyes, saying a prayer for her right then. I’d
learned a long time ago that prayer was the most valuable asset I had,
especially during situations that were beyond my control.
 

“Well, I
love you
darlin
’…I don’t want to keep you, but please
know that I sure do miss seeing you around. Give your boy some
lovin
’ from me.”

“I will;
I miss you too, Maggie. Love you. Bye.”

Maggie
had been the one to bring me to
The
Refuge
. She’d sat with me for hours as my nurse six years ago while I was
recovering from multiple injuries and coming out of an induced coma. In the
darkest season of my life, she had given me hope—light. Through Maggie I had
met Rosie and connected again with my faith in God. Her invitation had forever
changed my life—and my son’s life. There were no words to express the kind of
gratitude and love I held for her. I often told her that she was my guardian
angel.

I touched
the tiny wings that sat at the base of my neck on my pendant and thought again
about Jenny. I hoped she had a guardian angel looking out for her, too.

After I
made my way through the living area to my room, I snuggled down into bed,
switching on the bedside lamp. I picked up my black journal and started to
write. This time, it was not about the days that marked my past, but of the
thoughts that filled my present. I had so many questions, so many unknowns
swirling around in my head that what flowed onto the paper was a fluid stream
of consciousness. As I pulled back my hand to read what I’d written, my body
surged with a sort of anxious anticipation.

Maybe
Jackson wasn’t the only one who had awakened from a deep slumber.

A little pull, a tiny push

A fleeting thought, a heart of mush

My pulse is quick, my breath is short

My skin feels hot, my mind distorts

I need to see, I want to hear

I long to know, I hope he’s near

The balance tips, the line is crossed

The risk unknown, the hope not lost

**********

Just when
I thought I’d met every single mom that New York and the surrounding areas
could produce, a new sea of faces would emerge. I’d been sitting at my signing
table for nearly two hours while Cody sat next to me and read his adventure
book and snacked on dried banana chips—a gift from
Pippy
.

“I’ve
read every post on your blog. You’re such an inspiration to me.” A petite
red-headed
woman
 
leaned
over the table to shake my hand. “Can I get my picture with you?”

This
question never failed to surprise me. “Sure, of course. What’s your baby’s
name?”

She
bounced a little girl on her hip
who
looked to be
about one. “Carly.”

“Well,
she’s beautiful.” I held out my hand for the little girl to hold.

“Thank
you,” the woman said,
She
extended her phone to arm’s
length and snapped a photo with me. “Do you hope to have more children some
day?”

My gut
twisted, leaving a familiar ache to settle over me. I looked at her daughter
and did my best to smile. “Life is full of surprises.”

It was a
cryptic answer at best, but standing in line at a pre-book release appearance
was hardly the time or place for the truth on that particular subject. The
woman radiated joy as she walked away, her baby waving at me enthusiastically.
I took a deep breath as I felt a warm sensation press onto my back.

“You need
a break?”

It was
Jackson’s voice. I hadn’t seen him in almost two days as he’d been working long
hours at the office. Heat rushed into my face as I turned my head toward him.

“I can
keep going for a while longer,” I said, glancing at the line, which currently
held about thirty women.

“That’s
not what I asked.” He kept his voice low, but his brows were pressed into a
familiar scowl.

I nodded,
feeling a sense of relief at the rescue of his presence.

“Okay,
folks, I’m afraid Miss Flores needs to take a lunch break now. We’ll resume
within the hour.” Jackson’s voice brimmed with charm and authority, a mix I
hadn’t heard before.

“Thank
you,” I whispered as Cody stood and stretched.

Jackson
took us into a back stock room where
Pippy
had
sandwiches and drinks waiting for us. Cody immediately plopped onto a folding
chair and
unwrapped
his sub. Jackson tugged on my arm,
holding me back a few steps.

“Is
everything okay?”

“Yes, why?”
I asked him, noticing his hand was still on my
elbow.

“You
seemed…troubled a minute ago.”

I hadn’t
even known he was in the room, much less watching my interactions with the moms
in line. I swallowed hard as I thought again about the woman’s question. That
wasn’t the first time I’d been asked, nor would it be the last, but I the
inquiry would never cease to be painful.

I opened
my mouth to answer, but
Pippy
burst into the room,
forestalling my words.
Thankfully.
Jackson dropped his
hand from my arm with immediate haste.

“Oh…uh,
sorry,”
Pippy
said, smiling at me with eyes full of
mischievous delight, “but I have a phone message for you, Mr. Ross.”

Jackson
pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking his own screen with a look of
pensive curiosity.

“No, it’s
not a business call. It’s of a personal nature.”

“Oh.” After
taking two steps in her direction, he turned toward me again, his eyes
resembling the color of the dark pockets in the ocean. “May I take you and Cody
out tonight?”

Every
cell in my body flashed cold and hot in a matter of a millisecond.

“Sure.”

“I’ll
pick you up.
Pippy
can fill you in on the specifics
later.”

Pippy
trailed behind him as they left the storage room, but
not before giving me an over-enthusiastic wink. I bit my lip.

What had just occurred?

Was this
a date?

My heart
skipped.
A dozen times in a row.

Once when
I was around fourteen, my friend Eva invited me to go to the Nutcracker with
her family. I remember being completely overwhelmed by the magnitude and
luxuriousness of the theater. I’d been mesmerized by the entire production,
hanging on every movement and word said by the cast. It was a memory I’d never
forget.

Tonight
though, would put that reminiscent event to shame.

“You
should definitely wear the champagne-colored one,”
Pippy
said on the phone.

I’d been
saving that gown, but for what I wasn’t sure.

“You
think so?” I bit my lip as I ran my hand over the options hanging in the tiny
closest in my room.

“Definitely.
It’s Broadway. That dress is perfect!”

I shifted
the phone against my shoulder and ear while I pulled it out of the closet. “Okay…”

“Why do
you sound so nervous? You’re
gonna
look gorgeous, and
Jackson will think so, too.”

“
Pippy
! Stop…” I sighed. “I can’t think that way.”

Even though I think about him
all the time.

“What?
Why not?”

“A lot of
reasons—it’s comp-”

“Yeah, I
know, it’s
complicated
. So you’ve
said.”

“No
matter how I look at it,
Pippy
, the facts are what
they are. And what they are
is
complicated.” I ran my hand over the silk of the dress as I laid it on the bed.

“Well, I
hope you have a great time tonight. Walt and Jackson will be there at
six-thirty to pick you up, and you and Cody might want to eat something
beforehand.”

“Bye,
Pippy
,” I said, grinning as I hung up the phone.

I
couldn’t imagine anyone ever being upset at that girl. Talking to
Pippy
was like talking with
Glinda
the Good
Witch,
everything was coated in a layer of
sugary happiness.

 
After a very quick shower, I fixed my makeup
and blew-dry my hair, pulling it back into a low twist at the nape of my neck.
A tiny gold pin held the twist in place. The simple ornament matched the dress
almost exactly. Cody wore his nice dress khaki pants and a red polo shirt.

The phone
in our room rang as I applied my lip-gloss. Cody answered it. “Mr. Ross is
waiting for us downstairs, Mom.”

I exhaled
as I looked in the mirror one last time.

“Just.
Keep. Breathing,” I mumbled to myself as I turned off the bathroom light.

Walking
into the foyer was like a scene from an old black-and-white movie. Jackson
stood near the front desk, his back to us as we approached. The long, silky
fabric of my dress danced around my legs as I paced my steps carefully, as if to
calm my overly excited heart rate. Cody’s eagerness was far from quiet,
however, causing Jackson to turn toward the sound of his pounding footsteps.

He
laughed as he engaged in Cody’s new handshake; the one Peter had shown him a
few days earlier. Then his eyes found me. I was still several feet away, but it
didn’t matter. The gap between us could have been miles, and I still would have
felt the effect of his gaze. There was something about his eyes, something so
uniquely guarded, yet completely exposed at the same time. The look captured me
like a single flame in a dark room. Any attempt at breaking the spell was
utterly hopeless.

Cody said
something to Jackson before skipping excitedly out the door, but my mind
couldn’t translate his words. Jackson’s eyes were still on me.

He
cleared his throat and then extended his arm out to me. I smiled, silently
noting that even in my heels he was still several inches taller than me. I was
grateful for that small blessing.

As he
held the door open, he whispered in my ear. “I was right.”

I turned
my head toward him, our faces inches apart. “About?”

“That
dress.”

My
insides heated instantly as we stepped outside. “Is that your idea of a
compliment, Jackson?”

“No,” he
said, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t believe in compliments.”
 

I was
about to question that statement when Cody called my name. My son was bouncing
from seat to seat…inside a limo. I stood momentarily frozen, shocked by the
sight. Walt winked as I approached, giving a low whistle as he held open the
back passenger door for me.

“You look
stunning tonight, Miss Flores.”

“Well,
thank you for the compliment, Walt.” I smirked at Jackson, who laughed heartily
while I ducked into the limo.

As I
watched my son open and close each compartment, drawer, and cabinet—twice, I
realized how many
firsts
we had
experienced since coming to New York. And at the root of them all was Jackson.
He laughed as Cody talked a mile a minute about each feature he had discovered
in his precious few moments alone inside the over-sized vehicle. He hardly came
up for air once during our drive to
Minskoff
Theater.

“Lion
King!
Awesome!”
Cody said, as Jackson handed him the
playbill.