Authors: Portia Moore
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Romantic Suspense, #Sagas, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
As promised, Mr. Scott has put up the doll house, and Caylen is mesmerized by it. I return to the brown chair I sat in earlier, it almost swallows me but is one of the most comfortable things I’ve ever sat in. Mr. Scott has turned on a college football game, his attention between it and Caylen, who’s hitting him with a doll they bought her. I guess emotional exhaustion eventually translates into actual exhaustion since my eyelids feel heavy as bricks.
“Lauren.” I look back and see Mrs. Scott smiling at me.
“Do you want to go lie down before dinner?”
“Oh I’m fine,” I say, a yawn escaping my mouth, and she smiles knowingly.
“Mom, something’s burning,” Chris says, reappearing. Mrs. Scott’s eyes widen.
“Chris, show Lauren where your room is so she can take a nap before dinner,” she says, scurrying to the kitchen.
“I’m fine really,” I say, fighting another yawn from my mouth. He tilts his head to the side in disbelief.
“Okay, maybe just a really short one.” I stand up from comfy brown chair and stretch. I look over at Caylen and Mr. Scott.
“I’ve got her,” he grunts, only briefly glancing up at me. His ice has melted with Caylen but with me, not so much. That’s totally fine since I’m still not too thrilled about him either. I follow Chris down the hall and up the stairs, sunlight pouring in throughout this whole house. Once we’re up the stairs, he gestures to a room on the left further down the hall.
“There’s the bathroom, in case you need it. That’s my parent’s room.” He points at another door by the bathroom, and we make a sharp right. He opens the door and waits for me to step in. I wrap my arms around myself and think back on the first night I ever stepped into Cal’s apartment. Then, I had on a teensy cloth that barely covered my butt. Now I’m in an oversized sweater and jeans where you can barely tell I have a butt at all.
Chris’ room is pretty large, surprisingly just a little smaller than my and Cal’s...my room back home. I try to resist the urge to scour it, looking for hints of who
this
person is next to me.
My attempts fail.
He has a queen-sized bed with a navy blue comforter covering it. A desk sits in the corner with a laptop on it. And posters. Lots of them lining the walls, mostly of bands and a few sports teams.
“I haven’t really done much decorating since high school,” he kids. He’s standing there with his arms folded across his chest, the outline of his muscles showing through his blue t-shirt, the khaki jacket gone. I look down quickly at his stomach but can’t tell if my earlier theory about his stomach ballooning outward is correct. I walk over to a shelf housing at least thirty trophies. Basketball, hockey, soccer all different years. There are two pictures posted near them. One is of him and his parents all wearing Lions Jerseys, and the other of him by himself. He looks really young. His hair is so much shorter, and he has a smaller build. I can’t help but smile. I’ve never seen any pictures of him this young before. He’s standing next to a girl about his age with strawberry blond hair. They’re holding what looks like a science project.
“That’s my best friend Lisa. She should be coming for dinner tonight,” he says, and I can tell he’s behind me because every nerve-ending in my body, starting from my neck down, awakens.
“H—how old were you on here?” I ask him, my voice a little squeaky.
“Seventeen,” he replies.
I look to my right and out the corner of my eye I see more pictures on his wall. “May I?” I ask. I hope he doesn’t think it’s intrusive, but who am I kidding? I can do it while he’s here and deal with a little awkwardness or shuffle through his things after he leaves and potentially deal with even more awkwardness if he catches me.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. I walk over to the Wall of Christopher. There’s a picture of him when he’s about six in a little league outfit. He’s adorable, his chocolate brown curls peeping beneath his hat. There’s one of him near a lake where he looks about twelve or thirteen. I’d bet it’s the same girl from the science fair photo, but this time with a blonde boy with piercing blue eyes.
“How old are you here?” I ask. He’s leaning on the chair behind the desk his eyes on me, and I feel uncomfortably excited for just a moment.
“Thirteen. That’s Lisa again and my other best friend Aidan. He’s doing a tour in Iraq. He’s been one of my closest friends since he moved here from Chicago in second grade. His dad was in the army, and they always moved around a lot. But his grandmother never left, and he came back to visit every year. She has to be going on like 80-something now. And he’s obviously not as scrawny.” He chuckles and I smile.
“You guys all grew up with each other, huh?” I ask curiously.
“Yeah, I’ve known Lisa since pre-school. I met Aidan when I was around seven. Lisa went to visit her dad the summer Aidan’s parents moved in with his grandmother. When she came back, it was awkward. It was pretty much a fight over who was my best friend. Turned out, Aidan and Lisa had a lot more in common than I did with either of them. They liked to fight. They’d throw tantrums if they lost at anything and basically would get into as much trouble as possible. When they figured out they were more alike than me, they implemented voting on everything, which was two against one from then out.”
I smile at him being so open about his past with me. That’s definitely not something I’m used to. “So you were all little trouble makers?” I ask with a giggle.
He shakes his head.
“They
were the trouble makers.
I
was caught in the middle.” He chuckles.
There’s another picture of him and his dad, sitting on the porch. He looks about 19, same green eyes, longer chocolate hair, his build a little more defined than the last teenage version of him. Then there’s the infamous pie-eating contest with his dad. The clarity of this one much better, of course. I start to turn away, but before I do, there’s one last picture that catches my eye. It’s him and the blonde I met the other day. Who am I kidding? I know her name; it’s burned into my brain.
Jenna.
He’s next to her, dressed in a black suit and a bow tie. Cal wouldn’t be caught dead in a bow tie and his hair is obviously styled back. He looks almost suffocated in the suit. He’s smiling and maybe I’m just jealous, but this picture isn’t reminiscent of Cal or the Chris standing next to me...
“Her dad is a renowned Doctor. He wins a lot of awards, so lots of sitting in uncomfortable suits,” he replies like he’s reading my mind or maybe my expression. I think I’ve seen enough pictures for today.
“Is she coming for dinner tonight?’ I ask, the thought almost making me dizzy. His best friend is coming. Who knows who else they’ve invited.
“Not likely,” he says, pressing his lips together. I can’t imagine she’d want to sit down and break bread with the wife of the man she’s in love with just like I don’t want to see her.
“I’ll let you get to your nap,” he says, leaving the room. I nod before he shuts the door and let out a deep breath. I look at the bed once more before sitting on it. It’s really soft. I let my back fall onto it, look at the ceiling, and wonder if this my new normal. Am I doomed to trying to be polite, not seeming intrusive and walking on eggshells, afraid of asking what I want to know, or afraid of knowing too much? Because the more I get to know him, the guiltier I am that I wish more than anything to see Cal. And gosh, I have enough to be guilty about.
I’ve been holding my breath in forever. It’s like I’ve been on a rollercoaster all day, my stomach going up and down, my heart speeding up and slowing down. When we stood in front of the horse yard, I intended on apologizing to her about the ring tone thing with Jenna. To ask her what I could do to make things easier for her, but standing there with her for the first time, it was easy. I didn’t want to ruin it. I wanted things to stay how they were, but part of me wanted to push the invisible boundary, the wide line drawn that’s keeping the appropriate distance between us. To see how close I could get to it without going across. To be closer to her. To see if she noticed I was crossing the line. I think she did, and she backed away. I wanted to make up for earlier, for the lie I told. To try to make her feel better, and that backfired too.
I don’t think I made her feel better at all by telling her I
want
to remember, then asking—well, I didn’t technically ask. I wanted to, but deep down, I tried to stop the words from coming out. But she knew, and she wasn’t afraid to answer. I was afraid to hear the answer, but her answer was as loud as anything I’ve ever heard, and it was terrifying. I want answers but not the ones she’s going to give. I want the
easy
answers, the ones that will make this less complicated, the answers that mean I’m not hurting anyone. All her answers won’t make things easy. They’ll just give more questions, hard ones, and I have enough of those.
The most puzzling thing of all is how I seem to notice things about her, little idiosyncrasies, that I usually don’t notice about other girls this quickly. How she grabs her wrist when she’s nervous. How she looks up at the sky when she’s thinking. How she bites her bottom lip when she’s fascinated with something. How she bit it the entire time she saw the wall of, pretty much, my entire life.
After I destroyed my room, my mom took it upon herself to create a collage of all the pictures she found. I guess she knew what I didn’t. Lauren probably has never seen any of these. Cal doesn’t seem like the sentimental type to have shown her, seeing the way her expressions changed at each one like she was taking in little pieces of me as she looked at each, even if it looked like she was going to vomit when she saw the one of Jenna and me. I hate going to the banquets and conferences for her dad. They’re all boring, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. If she tells him about this, I’m sure his campaign to get rid of Chris will have a lot of support behind it. Not that Jenna needs much more of a push, but she’s texted. I need to call her. I head down the stairs and hear laughing and a commotion. Lisa has gotten here, and she’s holding
Caylen. Standing next to her is my other best friend Aidan. They’re both staring at Caylen in amazement.
“Scott, you have a fuc—
freakin’
kid. And she looks like your twin!” he says.
“Dude what are you doing here?” I ask excitedly.
“I thought I’d surprise you, but you definitely one upped us.” Lisa laughs.
“Aren’t you a pretty little girl,” Lisa says, playing with Caylen.
“I’ll take her while you guys catch up,” my mom says, taking Caylen from Lisa.
“It’s so good to see you, Aidan,” she says, giving him a pat before she scurries off in the kitchen.
“Chris, you’re a dad. You know when you told me the other night, it didn’t really sink in, but holy shit!” Lisa says, pushing me in the chest.
“Yeah, I heard you guys started getting wasted without me. That anyway to treat a solider coming home?” he says, punching me in the arm. The double-teaming has started already.
“Is her mom here?” Aidan whispers looking around.
“Is Jenna here?” Lisa chuckles.
“Her mom’s upstairs taking a nap, and Jenna, I haven’t talked to her in about a week, other than the occasional text. It came today, so that’s a good sign” I say hopefully.
“You don’t think Ice Queen still going to marry you?” Aidan laughs in disbelief.
“She’ll still marry him and just guilt-trip him his whole life,” Lisa says to Aidan.
“Want to put money on it?” Aidan retorts.
“Name it.” And for a minute, it’s like I’m not even in the room.
“Uh, this is kind of my life you’re placing bets on,” I interrupt them.
Aiden turns toward the kitchen and yells,” Mrs. Scott, whatever you’re cooking smells de-licious!”
“It’s your favorite. Lasagna,” she calls back.
“I can’t wait!” he says, completely ignoring me.
“Wait. You’re not staying for dinner,” I laugh but am so serious.
“You guys suck at welcoming me home. Since when can’t I stay for dinner?” he asks, amused.
“Since there’s a girl here he doesn’t want you to embarrass him in front of,” Lisa says, nudging him.
“Wife to be exact, right?” Aidan nudges her before crossing his arms.
“I’m glad you guys think this is so funny.” I’m a little offended, but I expect this from them.
“It’s better to laugh than cry buddy,” he says, putting his arm around me.
“So really, what the hell is going on?” Aidan says, tossing around one of Caylen’s alphabet blocks.
“Lisa didn’t fill you in?” I sigh.
“I did he doesn’t believe me,” she says.
“Hey you had your one-on-one with him. Can we get some guy time?” Aidan says tightly.
“You mean stupid time,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes.
“So this girl’s going down on me and her mouth is...”Aidan starts excitedly.
“Eww eew eww! I’m going!” Lisa says, leaving in a playful huff.
“Let’s go out to the back,” Aidan says, and we cut through the dining room, head to the back porch, and sit on the steps.
“It’s good you’re back. I’m glad you made it home safe,” I say genuinely. Aidan’s always been the type to live on the edge but was never one for authority even with his dad being in the army. We never saw him being disciplined enough to join the army, but when his dad was diagnosed with lupus, it was like Aidan went for him.
“Don’t start going all crybaby on me,” he says, pulling out a pack of gum from his jeans.
“How was it over there?” I say, taking a piece of gum from him. He’s still a “Big Red” guy. I didn’t even know they still sold it.
“I’m home,” he says, a wide smile on his face. “The details aren’t’ so much important right?” he says, resting his elbow on his knees.
“Besides, while I’m off the deep end, it’s like you’re floating in it,” he says, giving me a nudge. I sigh.
“You’re a fucking dad, man!” His excitement is apparent, and I sigh but can’t help but smile.
“How does it feel? I know you always wanted enough kids to fill a stadium,” he says, frowning at the idea of it.
I chuckle. “It didn’t feel like anything until I saw her. Now it’s real, I have this little person with my DNA that I’m responsible for.”