Violet Addiction (22 page)

“My wife passed away not long after Willow was born. She had breast cancer and refused treatment so she could bring Willow safely into the world.”

It seemed I was speechless again. Thankfully Annabelle had recovered by now. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

The man gave her a small smile and pulled his wallet out. “My name’s Toby, here is my card; my number’s on there. If you and your partner would like to come by sometime and see what I’ve got, just call and we’ll set up a time.”

I glanced at Annabelle as she took the card. I had never been renowned for playing Cupid, but right now, in this moment, I felt as though Toby was a gift from God that I could not ignore.

“Annabelle doesn’t have a partner, she’s single,” I spluttered out.

Annabelle looked absolutely horrified, but the slow grin on Toby’s face turned that mortified expression to a deep blush.

“I’m sorry to hear that; being a single parent is difficult,” Toby said, sincerity clearly evident in his deep voice.

“She’s not exactly a single parent. The father is still around, actually the father is my boyfriend. We’re like the
Brady Bunch
of the twenty-first century.” Apparently I had developed verbal diarrhea, and Annabelle’s audible groan confirmed that I might have said a little too much. Toby took it all in stride though.

“For a moment I thought maybe you were lesbians,” he confessed.

“If I was gay, I would have better sense than to date someone like Violet who clearly has the inability to shut her mouth,” Annabelle growled.

Toby chuckled as he leaned forward and handed Annabelle his card.
Toby Winters, Graphics Designer
. Huh, handsome, single father, knowledgeable in all things baby, employed. Toby was ticking all the boxes.

“Willow baby!” squealed a shop assistant, racing away from the now quiet desk. The little girl began kicking in an attempt to break free of her confining stroller. The woman was pretty with a head of strawberry blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was younger than Toby, probably a few years younger than me, twenty-three, twenty-four. I sighed with disappointment.

A handsome, single father like Toby appeared to be quite the catch; he also appeared already caught. Toby helped unbuckle Willow from her stroller, and she slid to her feet and stumbled towards the woman. “Oh my god, you grew overnight!” the woman exclaimed, then she tilted her head in thought. “Did your daddy give you ice cream last night?” The little girl laughed and attempted to say what sounded like ‘yes, ice cream’.

“Traitor,” Toby said fondly, watching his little girl with the woman. I let out a little sigh, taking in Toby and the woman who looked perfect together.

“My sister,” Toby eventually explained, with a nod in the woman’s direction. Ewww, not so perfect after all.

“Well, we had better get going,” Annabelle said, stuffing Toby’s card into her bag. “It was nice meeting you.” She took my arm and began dragging me toward the doorway.

“Likewise, and don’t forget to call me if you’re interested in looking at what baby stuff I have, or even if you want to chat. I work from home, so my schedule is flexible.”

I gave Toby a bright smile. “Oh, she’ll be calling soon, I promise.”

Once we were clear of the door, Annabelle let go of my arm. “What was all that about?” she hissed.

“That was about me helping to pave your path to Toby.”

“What does that even mean?” Annabelle sighed with a little irritation.

“It means, that handsome single father was totally into you, and I’ve laid the path. Now if you want to walk down it, all you have to do is call him.”

Annabelle shook her head. “There is no way he was interested in me. I’m pregnant.”

I raised a brow as I glanced at her obvious protruding stomach. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t miss that fact. You think pregnancy makes you repellant to male interest? Annabelle, just because you are cooking a baby in there doesn’t make you unattractive, and furthermore, Toby is a single daddy. You’re kind of a single mommy. You’re perfect for each other.”

When we reached the lingerie store Annabelle had previously mentioned, she pushed open the door and made a beeline for the maternity bras.

“I’m not sure now is the right time to be dating anyway,” she continued to argue.

“If anyone should realize life doesn’t always come perfectly packaged with a pretty bow, it should be you, Annabelle. Sometimes opportunities fall at our feet, and for one reason or another, you might just want to step around them and move on, but life is too short for stepping around chances. If you liked Toby, call him, if only for friendship and someone who has traveled the single parent road. He no doubt has plenty of valuable advice. He gave you the perfect in; you can go check out his baby stuff, grab some furniture to fill that empty nursery in your empty apartment you’re moving into next week, and take it from there.”

Annabelle nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “I’m going to get bigger though, like humongous bigger, and I’ve already got a couple of stretch marks.”

“Don’t even go there, sister!” I said with a raised hand. “Firstly, Toby had a wife who went through a pregnancy. I’m sure he’s already well aware of what happens to a woman’s body during this process, and secondly, don’t you dare think of yourself as anything but beautiful. You are growing a freaking life inside you, Annabelle. Do you realize how amazing that is? Nothing is more sacred and natural than that.”

“Well, haven’t you become all baby embracing and confident this morning,” Annabelle said a little too smugly.

“Bite me,” I murmured with a grin. The truth was, helping people see the possibilities before them was much easier than seeing my own. I guess it’s a little easier to see things from the outside looking in.

“Do you think your jealousy stems from the fact Cain had an intimate relationship with Annabelle, or the fact that she is carrying his baby?” The woman who had asked the question sat before me, her hands holding a cup of coffee, absorbing the warmth from the mug no doubt. It was snowing today, the New York winter still holding tight well into the New Year. Dr. Witney Scott came highly recommended by Dr. Brightman, my rehab psychiatrist. With the realization I was going to be entangled in the life of a delicate baby, I became all the more dedicated to staying healthy, and finding a local doctor to ‘chat’ with from time to time was important. No matter how well I was doing, some days I still struggled, and it would likely be an ongoing struggle for the rest of my life. My feelings of inadequacy were so deeply rooted I thought they were most likely part of my bone marrow now. Although most days, I ignored the ugly taunting voices in my head that drove me to get good and high in an attempt to silence them, some days it all just seemed too hard. Yesterday any thoughts of Annabelle and the baby were met with a smile; however, today my mood had swung like a pendulum and jealousy had taken up residence in my heart. I hated the wildly swinging emotions and I hated not being able to control them. Talking to Dr. Brightman had helped me sort through my confusing emotions; it helped clear my head, and I realized I actually missed those sessions. Cain had been hurt that I wanted to talk to someone other than him and had gone as far as to offer to come with me to this appointment, but he didn’t understand there were things on my mind that were often ugly, a side of myself I didn’t want him to see. Like the side of me that clutched to the jealousy of Annabelle.

I pondered Dr. Scott’s question. Seeing Annabelle and Cain together that first time had cut me like a knife, their engagement had dug the knife in a little deeper, but that wound had begun to heal over and their friendship and connection no longer cut me like a raw, painful gash. But the thought of the baby growing inside Annabelle was a new wound, and it hurt deeply.

“The baby,” I confessed. There was no judgment or discrimination on Dr. Scott’s face at my acknowledgement.

“And is your jealousy directed at the baby or Annabelle?” The thought of any harm coming to the baby, any misdirected hate or fury, made me feel ill. No, my jealousy was solely for Annabelle.

“Annabelle,” I quietly confessed.

Dr. Scott leaned a little closer. “You are jealous of the pregnancy that has forged a bond between Cain and Annabelle.” It was a statement, not a question. I nodded in agreement.

“I’m such a bitch. He left her, his pregnant fiancé, for me, and I’m still jealous.” I shook my head, deeply disappointed in my irrepressible feelings.

“You’re not a bitch, Violet. Any woman would feel the same in your predicament. Feelings and emotions have a funny way of voicing themselves whether your head tells you they are ridiculous or not. It is okay to have these feelings, and you are a very intelligent woman for recognizing and facing them.” Dr. Scott leaned back in her chair. “It’s the guilt that gets you most though, isn’t it?” My eyes widened a fraction in surprise. “You feel responsible for breaking them up, ruining their chance at a happy life together, dividing a family.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “If I hadn’t come back into Cain’s life, he would have had his happily ever after with Annabelle. They would have been a family, a real family, and Annabelle’s virtuous church going family wouldn’t be shunning her, and this baby would be born into a family who loved him and cherished him.”

Dr. Scott’s eyes softened. “Violet, the baby is going to be born into a family who love him and cherish him. He has a mother, a father, and a stepmother, all of whom are going to spoil him rotten, no doubt, as is every parent’s right. Do you have any idea how many clients I have that come from failed or failing marriages?” I shook my head. “Let’s just say my vacation house in Miami is built on a foundation of lies, deceit, and adultery. I don’t want you to think that marriage is a failure waiting to happen, but too many people get married for the wrong reasons, too many people stay with the wrong person for what they construe as the right reasons; it creates a world of misery, not only for the partners. It has a ripple effect. People surrounding them get caught in the currents and are often hurt as a result.” Dr. Scott sighed. “You need to let go of the guilt, Violet; otherwise, it is going to sit on your shoulders and destroy not only you but Cain as well. Ripple effect, remember?” My sullen gaze sprang to the doctor’s, understanding finally taking root somewhere inside me. If I allowed this guilt and jealousy to control me, it would affect the people around me. If I wanted to try and make the relationship Cain and I were building work, if I wanted to help him with his son and be a much needed friend to Annabelle, I needed to brush aside the guilt and accept the hand I had been dealt. I felt my shoulders drop as I relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Dr. Scott gave me a knowing smile. “I’m assuming you are handling sobriety well?” she asked.

“As well as anyone, I guess. I had a slip a month or so back and had a few too many drinks. I acquired some cocaine.” I chanced a look in the doctor’s direction, but as expected, her expression gave nothing away. “I didn’t take the drugs; I had someone get rid of them.”

Her smile broadened. “Sounds to me like it was barely a slip, and it is normal to have them. Like I said though, you are an intelligent woman, Violet, strong too. You are going to be just fine.”

It’s funny how one person’s opinion can bolster your confidence. I knew Cain had every bit of faith in me, and Harry and my dad, but this stranger who I had just met, this person who was educated in seeing truths that not even the bearer could see, believed in me, and that encouraged me to fight a little harder not only for myself, but for my family and friends.

While I softly sang and danced my way around the small kitchen, Mya was plugged into her headphones, her head, as usual, buried in a book. Cain sat on the recliner, his guitar in his lap and a notebook by his side. He was definitely writing a song, but every time I tried to take a peek, he either distracted me with kisses and wandering hands, or slipped away with the book where it would disappear to goodness knows where. It had been frustrating the daylights out of me; I hated surprises. But after my session with Dr. Scott today, I felt deliciously light and stress free. Not even Cain’s secretive song writing could sully my mood. When my phone rang, I swiped the screen without even looking.

“Violet, have you spoken to Cain today?” came Annabelle’s voice.

“Hello, Annabelle, I am fine. How are you and baby blob doing?” Cain glanced my way with a smile, knowing my new nickname for the baby wasn’t a favorite of Annabelle’s.

“Glad you are fine, baby is fine, and he is not a blob. Have you spoken to Cain?”

“I have indeed. In fact, I called him a secretive, cagey douche not more than ten minutes ago. He’s writing a song, and he won’t let me see. Maybe if you told him to share it with me, he would,” I thought out loud. Cain seemed willing to give Annabelle anything she wanted right now, explaining his need to keep her happy was simply tangled with his need to protect his unborn baby.

“Did he tell you the baby name I’ve picked out?”

“No!” I gasped. “Hold on, let me put you on speaker.” I flicked the phone on speaker, and Cain called out a hello.

“Don’t you hello me, you name hating ass,” Annabelle snapped.

Uh-oh, I had a terrible feeling I was being shoved into the middle of a mommy-daddy dispute.

“I don’t hate all names, just that one,” Cain calmly stated.

“Hit me with it,” I demanded.

“Angus,” huffed Annabelle indignantly.

I paused before responding. “Angus?”

“Oh my god, you hate it, too!” Annabelle screeched.

“Hate is too strong a word,” I said soothingly.

Cain put down his guitar and joined me in the kitchen, his arms wrapping around my waist. I had noticed whenever the baby came up in conversation, Cain would move to touch me, hug me, kiss me. Perhaps it was his way of reassuring me. Whatever his motive, I liked it. “Angus immediately makes me think of has-been rockers with greasy hair who insist on wearing a ridiculous school uniform for boys.” Annabelle was quiet for a moment.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she murmured.

“Angus, from AC/DC,” Cain answered.

I heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “Okay, that destroyed Angus for me. You win.”

“It’s not about winners or losers, Belle,”—his nickname for Annabelle that had once prickled my delicate heart, strangely enough no longer bothered me—”it’s about finding a name for our boy that resembles the strong, courageous man that he’ll become.”

Annabelle snorted. “Perhaps we should name him Thor then.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I like Thor.”

“You would,” Annabelle sighed.

“Did you call Toby?” I asked in a sing song voice.

Annabelle went quiet.

“Who’s Toby?” Cain asked lazily from over my shoulder.

“No one,” Annabelle replied too quickly.

“Who’s Toby?” Cain repeated, but his time he was a little more interested.

“A really handsome, sweet single father—”

“You’re assuming he is single,” Annabelle cut me off.

“Who offered a whole stack of unused baby stuff to Annabelle.”

“You’re helping Annabelle hook up?” Cain asked, the incredulous tone of his voice had me glancing at him from over my shoulder.

“I’m not hooking up with anybody.” Annabelle’s voice in the background suddenly became nothing but muted noise.

“You have a problem with Annabelle dating?” I wondered.

“Well, yeah,” Cain said in a tone that suggested I should have known better to even ask.

I drew away and put my hands on my hips, staring right at his uncompromising gaze. “Why do you have a problem with it, exactly?” I said, my voice holding steady even though a surge of jealousy was brewing dangerously close to the edge.
Why did Cain have a problem with Annabelle dating? Did he still have feelings for her?

“He doesn’t have a problem with me dating,” Annabelle argued, still on speaker phone in the background.

“Damn straight I have a problem with you dating,” Cain snapped.

My jaw dropped open.

“Oh good lord, give me a break,” Annabelle groaned. “What do you think about the house, Violet?”

I glanced back at the phone in confusion. “What house?”

“You didn’t tell her you brought a house?” Annabelle said with a raised voice.

“You bought a house?” I almost growled.

“We’re not talking about me right now; we’re talking about Belle, the mother of my child, that you are trying to set up on a date.”

“Nobody is setting me up on a date, and we’ve moved on, Cain. We are now talking about the house you bought here in Seattle that you are moving into before the baby is born. I can’t believe you haven’t talked to Violet about this yet.”

My jaw, which had fallen open with disbelief, snapped shut. Cain grabbed the phone and flicked it off speaker.

“We’ll talk later, Belle.” He disconnected the call.

“You bought a house, in Seattle?”

“Of course I did, you didn’t think I was going to be a long distance father who only saw his kid for holidays and birthdays?”

In all honesty, I hadn’t even given it a moment’s passing thought. Stupid of me, considering I knew very well Cain wanted to be a hands on father. It would make sense for him to live in Seattle, close to Annabelle and the baby, but the fact he hadn’t even bothered to discuss it with me stung.