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Authors: Emma Nichols

The Truth About Love (21 page)

BOOK: The Truth About Love
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Reaching into her bathrobe pocket, she pulled out a fat envelope.  “I should, but I wanted to give you this.”  She glanced about as she passed it to me.

My brow furrowed.  “What’s this?”  I held it, almost afraid to break the seal.

“It’s a gift.  To help you get through the next few months, get on your feet in case Shane really is gone for good.”  She nudged me.  “Open it.”

Inhaling sharply, I peeled back the flap and quickly discovered a bunch of hundred dollar bills and a couple hundred in twenties.  “I can’t take this.”  I shook my head.  “It’s too much.”

“It’s five thousand dollars.  I had my financial advisor transfer some money for me and I withdrew it yesterday while you girls were at Walmart.”  She smiled proudly.

“You tricked us into leaving so you could do this?”  I shook my head in disbelief.

“I didn’t want your sister to know or she’d be wanting money too.  Brynn will be fine.  It’s you I’m worried about.”  She stepped closer to me and offered me a hug.  “You look like you lost your best friend.”

“I have.”  I mumbled under my breath.  Of course lately, it had seemed he’d stopped being my friend. 

“Hopefully, this will help you have one less worry.”  She drew me tightly against her.

“Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, Nina.  Now get some rest.  I know you plan to leave early tomorrow.”  She kissed my forehead and then walked back through the kitchen to her bedroom.

After pulling out enough cash for gas and food for the drive, I stashed the rest of the bulging envelope in my suitcase.  Somehow, I’d find a way to repay her.  It wouldn’t be soon, but one day I’d give her this money back.

 

Chapter Twenty

 

 

For the rest of the holiday season, it felt like I was on suicide watch.  No one would leave me alone for more than ten minutes.  We had returned, rather uneventfully, from Florida.  With money in the bank, I could focus on work and making more money, in theory.  In reality, I experienced the depths of depression.  The excitement over being able to eat whatever I wanted had been short lived.  Soon, I didn’t care about eating at all.  Kylie had her feeds through her tube.  I mostly tried to find something palatable.  Everything tasted like sawdust and filled my mouth like sand.  The world had lost its flavor. 

With no reason for Brynn to stay, I drove her back to Kannapolis the day we returned.  I didn’t get dressed for days.  Oh, I still showered, but mostly I’d throw on a robe or wear pajamas.  I found a pair of Shane’s pajama pants he’d left behind.  There were also a few of his t-shirts.  For some reason, I tortured myself by wearing them.  I’d taken to sleeping on his side of the bed, hugging his pillow for dear life.  Though I’d always thought I’d take advantage of setting my own bedtime, I soon discovered I couldn’t sleep.  I’d spend hours on Facebook, torturing myself. Shane had never learned how to set his profile to private and so even though I had unfriended him, I could still see his life unfolding in front of me.  I could read all the statuses he’d been tagged in.  Seemed he was back to his bachelor days, running around at bars, hanging out with old girlfriends, while I was in his house, caring for our child, otherwise unable to function.

After I’d been home alone a few days, Autumn called.  Apparently, Shane had stayed with them for a bit.  They’d all partied hard.  He’d brought an old girlfriend with him.  He was staying with her now.

“Why are you telling me this?”  I asked, even as my heart completely shattered in my chest.

“I don’t want you to get back together,” she said simply.  “You can do so much better than Shane.  He never deserved you.”

“Okay.  I’ve gotta go.”  Then I ended the call before she could tell me anything which might further destroy me. 

I’d seen the pictures.  I’d studied them.  In my mind, I kept believing he wasn’t really happy.  I wanted to believe he was going through the motions, just like me.  Maybe he needed to be around people, whereas I wanted everyone as far away from me as possible.  The only reason I even left the bedroom was Kylie.  Every morning, I’d get up, and force myself to function for her. 

One morning, there was a knock on the door.  As I went to open it in my bathrobe, Kylie’s physical therapist entered.  “Oh, man.  I forgot you were coming.”  I bit my lip.

Kristy looked me up and down.  “Go get dressed,” she suggested gently. 

I glanced down at my ratty bathrobe with Shane’s pajama pants peeking out from underneath.  “Okay.”  I hesitated, unsure of what I had to wear.  I hadn’t done any laundry since my return.  Slowly, I shuffled down the hall and realized she’d followed with Kylie, practicing walking.  “Oh.”

“It’s a family thing.  Therapy.  I’ll help you too.”  She smiled warmly, this fifty-year-old woman who had energy I only dreamed of having.

Walking into my closet, I grabbed a pair of yoga pants and yanked a shirt off a hanger.  “I’ll go get dressed.”  I spoke numbly as I traipsed to the bathroom. 

“We’ll meet you in the kitchen.”  She called through the door.

For the first time, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  No wonder she worried.  I looked rough.  While I took so much pride in caring for Kylie, I’d done nothing for myself.  It had to change.  That would be my Christmas present to me.  It would be good for my baby too.  After I dressed, I moisturized my face, applied some eyeliner and lip gloss, and noticed I appeared almost human again.

Feeling ashamed, I walked back down the hall.  “There she is!”  Kristy announced to my expectant little one.  “I told you mama would be back.”  She sat with her legs spread on the carpet, Kylie standing in between them.  “Show mama what you can do.”

I moved toward them and watched as my baby, now nearly two years old, took her first tentative steps.  It was amazing.  “You did it!”  To Kylie’s delight, I squealed and clapped for her.  She joined in.  Reaching for my phone on the coffee table, I urged, “Now do it again!”  For a moment, I forgot how sad it was Shane had missed this.  I let go of all the hurt of the past few months and relished being present.  My micro-preemie was learning to walk.  I could learn to live again for both of us.

 

Later in the afternoon, when I was certain she’d be home from work, I called Lily.  “Come have a cookie party with me.  I’m not above begging.”  Still, I held my breath while waiting for her answer.

“When?”  She sounded excited.

“Your next day off.  I don’t have a lot of money, but I can give the gift of baked goods.”  I laughed.  “I need to make this holiday special, see if I can’t get in the spirit.  Hell, I’ll even make egg nog.”

Lily chuckled.  “I said I was in!”

By the time we ended the call, I felt more myself than I had in days.  After bundling up Kylie, we walked down to the mailbox.  It was full since I hadn’t bothered to look for several days.  As we wandered back up the driveway, I began to sort the envelopes.  Already Shane had accumulated quite the stack.  I sent Lola a text.

 

Me: Any chance Evan could deliver some mail to Shane?

 

In no time, she responded.

 

Lola: I’m sure he would.  Stick it in a bag and bring it over later.

 

When I glanced out the front window shortly after five in the evening, I discovered both vehicles were home across the street.  Once we dressed for the cold, Kylie and I grabbed the bag of mail and skipped across the street.  She was giggling uncontrollably from my antics by the time I reached the door and knocked.

“Hi there!”  Evan greeted and motioned for us to enter.

“Oh, I just wanted to leave the mail for Shane.”  I shrugged.  “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks!”  Lola shouted from the kitchen.  “Get in here.”

“You heard her.”   Evan waited for me to take a step, then he shut the door behind me. 

“Watch this.”  Kylie’s progress made me giddy and I had no one to share it with.  Setting her down, I moved a short distance away and held out my arms.

Lola rushed from the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel.  My little toddler stood there beaming.  She took one tentative step, then another, until she collapsed into my arms.  “She did it!”  Lola shouted.  Then she smiled before growing serious.  “You gave Evan the mail?”

“Sure did.”  I nodded, still glowing with pride.

“I’ll be sure to deliver it to him away from the neighborhood.”  Evan walked toward the garage.  “He spends all day sitting around, thinking about how to get back at you.  The last thing we need is for him to be across the road from you.”  He opened the door to the garage and started to duck out of the house when I stopped him.

“Wait.  He’s trying to get back at me?”  I frowned.

“Yeah.  You have his house. You have Kylie.  What does he have?”  He shrugged as though it made perfect sense.

“Hold up.  He initiated this.  He hired a divorce attorney.  He had the meltdowns.  His Facebook has him partying and living it up.  If anyone should be upset, it’s me.”  My face flushed.  Suddenly, my mood was ruined.  “Okay.  I’m gonna go now.”

“Just wait…”  Lola urged.

“I can’t.  I’m lousy company.  I’ll see you later.”  Then I picked up Kylie, balanced her on my hip, and stormed back across the road.   

When we entered the house, I started considering what we could do for dinner.  After experiencing the aroma wafting from Lola’s kitchen, I actually felt in the mood to eat.  Desperate, I called for pizza delivery.  At least I’d have leftovers for a few days.  Cooking for Shane had meant a lot of fried food.  I’d hated it at the time.  Now it was still better than making meals for one.

Around seven thirty, minutes after Kylie fell asleep in my lap, my new phone rang.  It still surprised me, since I’d forwarded my new number to so few friends. 

“I haven’t talked to you for a while,” Julia noted sadly.

I sighed.  “It’s not you.  I’m not talking to anyone.  I’ve been depressed, but I’ve decided to snap out of it.”  I chuckled.  “You know.  Because that’s how it works.”

Julia laughed.  “It does work that way a little.”  She was quiet a moment.  “Are you feeling better now?”

“Mostly.”  I made sure Kylie was safe on the couch before I stood to pace.  “I’m feeling out of sorts, like I need a change and don’t know what to do.” 

“I get it.  It’s kinda why I called.”  She was silent a moment, no doubt trying to build suspense.

“What do you have in mind?” 

“What if we wrote a book together?”  I could hear her inhale sharply as if she were holding her breath while she waited for my response.

“I don’t know.  It’s scary.  What would we even write about?”  I chewed on my lip.

“That’s the thing.  Romance is so hot.  We should try it.  Create a pen name.  Write together.”  She giggled.  “You can be my courage.”

I walked to the front window and peeked out the blinds.  It was dark and cold.  I’d been feeling so lonely.  Maybe this kind of change would do me some good.  “Okay.  Let’s do it.”

“Great!  Let’s brainstorm.” 

For the next hour and a half, we plotted out a book.  It was an amazing story, if I did say so myself.  When we were done, she squealed.  “I have a friend who’s a literary agent.  What if I share the plot with her and see what she thinks?”

“Seriously, I have nothing to lose.  Go for it.”  I walked over to Kylie, hooked up her tubing and prepared her last feed for the night. 

“I’ll talk to you after I know something.”  Julia sounded positively giddy.

I gave Kylie her meds through her tubing, then moved her to the crib before I started the feeding pump.  Tiptoeing into the bathroom, I cleaned my face and brushed my teeth.  As I pulled off my shirt, the phone rang. 

“She loved it!”  Julia screamed through the phone. 

I bolted from the echoing room like a gazelle and didn’t stop until I reached the great room.  “What?”  I couldn’t even process what she’d said.

“My friend, Angela, the literary agent…she loved the plot!  She wants to know how soon we can have the book ready.  She wants to have first right of refusal.”  I could hear her dancing or jumping around.

“Okay.  How soon do you think?”  My mind was racing.  For the first time in too long, I was actually excited about something.

“I think we could write it in a month.  We both write pretty fast.” 

Sprinting to the office, I glanced at the calendar on the desk.  “I don’t know.  Christmas is coming.  Then Kylie turns two the first week of January and I have court after that.  It could be close.”

“Let’s try.  Please!” 

How could I turn her down?  “Okay.  We’ll start in the morning.”  There seemed to be so many logistics to work out.  “I don’t even know how we’re going to write together.”

“We could alternate chapters or point of views.  You could be one character, I could be another.  Lots of options.”

“Seems like you’ve given this some thought.”  I wrapped my arms around my body and squeezed.  “Okay.  Tomorrow.  Bright and early.  I’ll be ready to go by eight.”  My body shook from excitement. 

“Call you then.  We’ll get started.”  She squealed again.  “This is going to be huge.  I can’t wait.”

BOOK: The Truth About Love
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ads

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