The Way Home (Lights of Peril Book 2) (2 page)

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Authors: A. C. Bextor

Tags: #Lights of Peril

BOOK: The Way Home (Lights of Peril Book 2)
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Chapter One

 

“Keep right on lying to me. That's what I want you to do.”

-Ernest Hemingway

 

“Sadey, are you about ready? You don’t want to be late for this interview. Gramma is pretty strict on tardiness and it wouldn’t make for a good impression.”

God
above, if you are listening to me right now, Mace Cash is driving me crazy with her constant nagging and mothering routine. Please keep the witch still for just a little while so I can have some peace.

My friend is
always trying to push me past this. Until recently, I’ve ignored her attempts to straighten my life out, but the past couple of months I have given up and learned to start trusting that she’s probably right. I never needed to get out of this house more than I do now.

I’ve interviewed for some jobs in this sma
ll town and so far no one wants to hire me. They already know my story and have surely heard the rumors about my lack of healing. Well, not so much lack of healing, but more of my lack of ongoing sanity. Thus, business owners probably assume I’m half crazy. Unfortunately, I’d have to agree that they’d be right.

My big effort
now is for Mace. I am attempting to earn a living and going on this interview with Gramma to work at the library with Peyton and Mace will help. It isn’t much, but it’s something. This will give me a starting point at least. The hours are decent and I have April and Cherry, who have both
begged
me, to leave Patrick with them when I’m away. Mace trusts them, so I do as well.

“Yes, I’m ready.
Do you really think this is passable for library attire though? I’m kinda concerned that it isn’t exactly the outfit I should be wearing to an interview.”

She’s not happy with my comment because she
hand-picked this mess out herself. I’ve been out of my pajamas for about an hour and already I’m wishing to be in them again. This should definitely tell me something about my mental state, but in my own defense, even on a good day, what woman doesn’t enjoy snuggle pants with no waist constraints?

“How would you know
? You haven’t been out of your flannel pajamas long enough to know if these are going to make the right impression or not. You’ve only had Patrick to impress the last few months, I don’t want to hear any more about it. Would you just have a little faith in your oldest friend?”

“Thanks for the jab, Mace
. I still cannot believe you actually threw my favorite fashions in the bonfire last weekend. What were you thinking? I am holding out hope you’re lying about that and I will see them again, damn it. I don’t suffer from pajama withdraw yet, but I might if you don’t give them back.”


Fashions? Oh, honey! No, they are
gone
. I told you I wasn’t lying. Those weren’t clothes. Good grief! They were worn by you enough they could have walked themselves into that bonfire. It was almost a fashion suicide. Could have been a lot more tragic, too, had I not just tossed them in without a second thought. Now get your ass moving and let’s go already. I’m not about to sit here and continue to argue with you about the fact that those flannels made your ass look big and your boobs look small.”

Mace has always been jealous of my body, but more so now.
Not only have I lost all the baby weight, but now I’m the size I was before we went to college. She’s still carrying Ryder, in his last trimester, and her stomach is
huge
. She doesn’t get the luxury of the depression diet. That’s just for me. Shame tries to tell her she’s beautiful at any size. Too bad she doesn’t hear him when he says it. She’s beautiful though, even sporting her motherly figure.

I mutter
‘bitch’ at her as I walk past April into the kitchen and straight to Patrick, who is sitting in his vibrating baby chair, for my kiss goodbye. It isn’t fair. He’s wearing his pajamas and no one is criticizing him about it.

Kegs
, aka April, is staring at me as I reach to pick him up. She has told me recently that she’s concerned for me and she has a crazy idea in her head that I may not be bonding with my son as she thinks a loving mother should. I’m wondering how she would know this. My friend has no kids and she’s still single. As soon as she loses the love of her life and is left with his son who mirrors his image, then we can have this discussion. Until that happens, I have told her I’m not listening to anymore of that.

I’m
connecting with him the best I can, be it only as a loving mother who has lost her parenting partner. It’s a weak excuse, even as I think it, but at least I can recognize it. I love my son, of course. I do. I’m just still working through some of my feelings of how to handle our future, alone, without Hem.

“April, I will be back
in a while. Do
not
over-feed my little simian. He will stare at you in wait for you to give into him. He’s stubborn. Do not let him play you or I’ll have to deal with the consequences later. And you’ll have to deal with those consequences. You know how I can get, too. I won’t just enjoy his tummy ache alone. Someone will be coming over to settle him, namely you.” I smile at her so she knows I’m only half playing with her.

She’s
staring at me, but gives me a soft nod. At least she acknowledges my instructions. I grab my son, giving him a big squeeze and a kiss on the head before putting him back in his favorite chair so he can prepare for his bottled breakfast.

As I had taken my eyes o
ff April for just one damn nanosecond, I apparently missed the fact that she has been coming to me, at full speed. I don’t have time to turn away. Damn, it’s too early for this.             

She grabs me around my neck and pulls me to her, nearly knocking me off balance.
“I’m glad you’re trying, Sadey. I’ve missed you. Don’t worry about Patrick. I’ve got him. Go and get yourself a job. When you get home I will ask Honor to watch Patrick one night so we can celebrate.”

Seriously, April
, we’re going to celebrate? I haven’t had anything to celebrate in a while, but I’m not about to get into that with her before I leave. Besides, this is just a passing position until I find something better, long term. Mace is rolling her eyes because she knows I’m stalling for time.

I pull back fro
m April, look her in the eye, and then I lie right to her face, “Okay, sounds perfect. Let’s plan it. I’ll see you two in a bit. You have both our numbers should you need anything, so don’t hesitate to call me. The number to the library is also on the fridge, yellow sticky note.”

“Sadey, I wasn’t kidding.
Let’s go.” Mace is always so impatient with me. Damn… give a girl a minute.

“Everything looks wonderful
, Sadey. I’m very happy to have you with us.”

Gramma, formally known as Betsy, is smiling at me as if I just accomplished something
no one else ever has. Good grief, it’s a library, people. How hard can it be to move a few books around and call it a day? Whatever, I’m thankful for this job if for no other reason than to have my dear friend off my ass.

“Thank you, Gramma.
I’m happy to be here and I’m glad you are confident that I can do a good job for you.”

I’m still sounding
enthused, but I cannot wait to drop the facade and slip back to my new pajama pants calling for me at the house. I make a quick mental note that I need to find a place to lock them down to avoid another fashion massacre.

“Don’t be silly.
You
girls are
my
girls. After, Jerry, my husband passed last winter, I thanked my stars I had all you girls to keep me busy. You know I’m here for whatever you need.”

She rubs her hand up and down my arm
while she’s talking to me. She certainly does connect with me on a maternal and emotional level.

“Alright, well
, I’ll see you first thing Monday morning, then. Thank you, Gramma.” I’m relieved we are done here.

I pull my phone ou
t of my purse now that the interview is over so I can text April, letting her know we’re finished and we’ll be home after lunch. Mace is insisting to take me to our favorite Mexican restaurant. I’ve never been known to turn that invitation down. I wonder if pajamas are within their dress code.

A few times
during the past six months I’ve gone in for takeout. I never stay in and eat. I’m not used to leaving Patrick for long periods of time and I’m guessing he’s either dealing April a fit right now or she’s allowed him to bully her into more than his share of morning formula. He’s only a little over two months old, but I can already see his father’s caveman tendencies kicking in. When he wants something and someone tells him no, there’s always going to be
hell to pay
.

W
alking towards the office door where Mace told me to find her after my talk with Gramma, I can hear Peyton and her snickering at something in conversation. I realize how much I have missed sharing those kinds of moments with friends. Being carefree and having fun hasn’t been part on my life recently, and it should be.  I find myself coming around to those thoughts with regret. I know I’m getting better; it’s just taking me more time than people in my life find acceptable.

“Hi
, Sadey. I’m so happy you are going to work here now, girlfriend! We are going to have some F-U-N working together.” Peyton has already been alerted of my recent employment status, so the ride begins.

 
Ya know, Mace warned me about her being extra chipper early in the morning, but this cannot last. I am not necessarily a morning person and I
know
that Mace Cash is most definitely not. I’m going to sit back and let her handle this one. I believe Peyton has assumed I’m going to be her partner when dealing with morning Mace. No way.

“No.
Peyton, did you forget your rulebook at home this morning, missy? It’s still before noon and just because you think you have someone else here to back you now, you don’t get to start your ‘cheery cheerleader’ routine so early in the morning. Rules, girlfriend, rules.”

Thatta girl, Mace
. Get her.

Mace is still pointing to
the imaginary watch on her wrist referring to the time, making Peyton frown. It’s not a real frown, but it still makes you feel bad about bringing her down from excitement so early in the morning. For someone that had a rough introduction to her teenage years, she’s bounced back with fervor.


I’m sorry, Mace. Unsure how I can forget that the whole world can’t wake up and be happy until you are. You would think after all this time of working together you could just let me have this one. Never mind. You’re such an old bitty.”

Peyton smiles
directly at me and winks right before she goes in for another Mace verbal knocking.


Oh, no, Mace, wait. Will Ryder not be allowed to smile until noon either? Maybe Auntie Peyton needs to be sure to come visit him on the weekends and verify you aren’t being crabby to him during his morning cartoons. Will Bugs Bunny get muted after too many ‘What up, Doc’s?’ Poor little Ryder, I can see his tragic youth playing out before my eyes already.”

Not too dramatic at all, Peyton.

Mace just sighs and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. He’s my son. You already know he won’t wake up rationally until at least ten o’clock every morning. Nothing you can threaten me with that will bother me enough to stop you from blabbering. Now, if we are done with your morning antics, we’re out of here. We’re going to an early lunch first before we go home. I will be back to work on Monday. Have a good weekend, stay out of trouble and give that sexy cowboy a hug from me.”

Peyton
mockingly salutes her and Mace flips her off as we walk out the front door. Maybe this
is
where I should spend more time. They do seem to have fun with each other, even if it’s at each other’s expense.

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