Athica Lane: The Carpino Series (27 page)

He stays silent and I hear him exhale.

“And I’m sorry your mom told me what she did.  She didn’t mean any harm.  I should have told you right away when it happened,” I go on.

He drops his hands, lifts his head to look at me ignoring everything I’ve said, blurting out, “I can’t give you what you want.”

I turn away from him and look down at my coffee.

“We’re at different places in our lives—the last thing I need is another family.  I can’t start over.  You want that, you should have it.”

I pull my lips in, lifting my head once.

“I should never have started it with you.”

I close my eyes and bite my lip.

“Should’ve stuck with my instinct in the beginning, let you be.  It’s my fault. I didn’t think it through.”

Oh shit.  I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes.

“I’m rectifying that now.  You should find someone who can give you what you need.”

I open my eyes and look at my coffee but it’s blurry.  I hear him stand and even though he’s so close, he doesn’t touch me when he lays his final words out, “I’ll leave you be.”

I hear him move and I can’t help myself when I call, “Cam?”

I hear him stop but he doesn’t say anything. 

I cast my eyes downward to my side so I don’t have to look at him, “I wish you could see what I see.  What could be.  I’d give you everything if you let me,” I choke out before finishing, “it could be perfect.”

He doesn’t say a thing but he also doesn’t leave. 

I look back to my coffee when I ask, “What will you tell Jordy and Cara?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, his voice rough. 

I hear him move before the front door slams.  There’s no question.  Cam took every ounce of doubt from my head that I’ve been building over the last day, hoping, praying he would come around.  That’s it.  It’s done.  I sit here long enough to let my new tears dry.  Moments, or hours later, I can’t tell since time is standing still, Charlotte returns. I’m still sitting at the table, my coffee cold and untouched in front of me. 

“You can stay,” she says. 

“Thanks,” I say into my cold coffee. 

I get up, move into her family room and park myself on her sofa.  I forget all about the plans I made to get back to work. 

*****

Friday - 10:22 am

“What are you doing?” Charlotte asks.

I’m on the sofa, lying on the princess pillow I’ve claimed as my own (Maddie will just have to deal with it) and flipping through channels randomly.  Without looking up I say, “Congressing.”

“What’s that?” she asks, frustration laced in her voice.

“Wasting time,” I say without looking past the television. 

“I’m going to the grocery store.  You should come.  Vic thinks if you’re staying here, he should at least get a reprieve from my cooking,” she says.

“Not today,” I say and decide to leave it on National Geographic channel.  Gameshows make my stomach turn and I thought I was going to throw up when I flipped by the first sports network.  And I absolutely can’t watch anything sappy, including commercials.  I’ve decided watching animals kill each other would be best. 

I hear her sigh, but don’t see her leave because I don’t bother to look.

*****

Saturday - 8:37 pm

I feel my feet come up and be thrown to the floor.  I look over to see my brother-in-law, Vic, sit down at the other end of my sofa.  I pull my knees up to tuck my feet under me and hear him ask, “The History Channel?”

“Mm-hmm,” I answer without looking away from my documentary.

“What war is this?” he asks.

“Revolutionary.  Or maybe American Indian.  I don’t know.”

“Paige, I don’t see any Indians,” I hear him frown.

“Then it must not be the American Indian Wars,” I point out.

“I didn’t know you liked history,” he says, stretching his feet out on the coffee table, nudging my dirty cups and bowls over with his feet.

“I don’t,” I say.

“Then why are you watching it?” he asks.

“It’s called passive learning.  If I lay here long enough, the learning will just come to me,” I answer.

“Holy shit,” I hear him mutter.

*****

Sunday - 11:05 am

“I can’t see,” I complain, trying to look around both my sisters, Leigh and Gabby.

I’m day three into Shark Week.  I hit the jackpot when I found them on the DVR last night. 

“You haven’t showered since Wednesday,” Charlotte says with her lip curled.

“When’s your next catering event?” Sophia demands.  “I’ve checked your blog, you must have it set to update daily, but what about your advertisers?  And you told me you’d help with Noah and Cayden’s birthday party.  It’s only five weeks away. I want to get started.”

I look up at the four women blocking the television, ruining my Shark Week marathon.  I decide not to say anything and cross my arms.  I know I’m ignoring real life, but I’ve decided to wallow as long as I can.  As long as I sit on this sofa watching documentaries or the natural process of the animal food chain, I won’t be reminded of what I don’t have anymore.  I know the second I get back to anything normal, I’ll miss what I had for seven short weeks.  I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle that.

“Rosa’s worried about you,” Leigh adds softly.  “She said she hasn’t seen you in a while.  She said if you don’t come and see her soon, she’s going to make me bring her to you, and I don’t want to do that.  She’s had a bug and it zapped her energy.”

I frown, worried about Rosa being sick and hate that I haven’t seen her.  She’s texted and left voice-mails, but since I’ve decided to ignore everyone, I haven’t answered.

“What can we do to help?” Gabby asks. 

I shrug my shoulders.

“I could do a blog takeover for a few days,” Gabby offers.  “I’ve done a few low-budget kitchen renos.  I have before and after pictures.  I’ll write something up to go with them, would that help?”

“Sure,” I mutter.

I look at Charlotte who sighs while she rolls her eyes, having finally lost patience with me yesterday, but she says, “I know it’s Sunday, but you’ll be behind whenever you decide to snap out of it.  I’ll look into your advertising tomorrow, check in with your clients.”

“When’s your next event?” Sophia demands.

“Tuesday night,” I say looking down at my cuticles that need to be trimmed.  “It’s a big one, too.  A garden party for seventy-five.”

“Seventy-five?” Leigh gasps.

“Who has garden parties?” Charlotte frowns.

“When do you plan to start working on that?” Gabby chimes in.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I say, wishing they would leave me alone.  They’re pulling me back into reality and ruining Shark Week. 

“That’s it,” Sophia declares, reaching down to steal the remote from me.  She turns and flips off my sharks.

“Hey!” I yell.

She reaches for my hand and gives me a good yank, “Go take a shower.  We’ll all shop for your event this afternoon and you can get Gabby and Charlotte sorted to help with the blog.  You’re going back to your apartment tonight.”

“I’ll shop tomorrow, I don’t need anyone’s help.  I can cook for my event here,” I argue, pulling away from her.

“Sorry, but this is us ripping off the Band-Aid.  We love you, but you need to snap out of it,” Sophia says.

“You can’t make me do anything,” I frown.

Charlotte crosses her arms while hitching a foot and tips her head, “Fine, then we’ll call mom.”

I feel my eyes go big as I hear Leigh and Gabby gasp in unison.

“We’ve kept most of this from her for your sake, but if you don’t get off that sofa, I’ll call her right now.  So far, we’ve told her you’re busy with work and are taking some time to rethink things with Cam.  But we’ll give her the full story and she’ll be here in a flash—you know she will.  Lizzie Carpino will be all over you.  Good luck finding a moment of peace when she gets wind her baby has a broken heart, no matter the reason,” Charlotte lays out her threat with a wicked smile. 

“You wouldn’t,” I whisper.

“We would and we will,” Sophia says.  “Go take a shower.”

Well, damn them all. 

I glare at the four of them and move my stiff body to the hall bath.  They’ve given me no choice and have pulled out all the stops by threatening to call my mom.  I have no energy for her right now.  Showering and grocery shopping will be way easier. 

*****

Brian – two nights later…

Her car is here. 

Fuck, she’s back.  I haven’t seen her here in weeks. 

I turn into her complex and park where I can see her apartment window.  The blinds are slightly open and her lights are bright.  It’s late, too late for me to approach.  Damn, I should’ve come earlier but I wanted to get here after dark so I could go inside.

But she’s here.  What does that mean?  I feel my heart race, I have to think.  Think and decide what to do next. 

I’ll wait.

I’ll wait here and see if anyone comes out, see if she’s alone.  Maybe she’s alone.  He’s got kids and they’re always with him.  Why would he be here with his kids?  No, if she’s here, she’s got to be alone.

Maybe something happened.  Maybe, just maybe, I’ll still get my shot.  My chance at Paige Carpino.  Something I was beginning to think I missed.  But this could be it.

I lean back in my seat to settle in for the night.  Running my hands through my hair, I decide I might need to get a haircut soon.  My boss has been looking at me funny lately, but the longer I’m away from her, the harder it is to focus on any-fucking-thing. 

I hope that’s about to change.  Just thinking about seeing her again makes me hard.  Fuck, I really need something of hers to touch, to smell. 

I stare at her window as I think about having the real thing.  Her hands, her mouth, her cunt.  Then I do what I always do and reach to unzip my fly.  But tonight I do it thinking I’m one step closer. 

The next morning…

I hear a knock at my door and I can’t help but tense. 

I never in all my life thought hope would be an emotion I’d wish to squash—stamp out and kill—like one would wish to kill a weed ruining a beautiful bed of flowers.  But that’s what I want to do.  Every time my phone rings, dings with a text or even when someone comes to my door, which has happened often since I returned to my depressing apartment, there it is.  It washes through me making me warm, nervous, full of anticipation and dread, all at the same time. 

Hope. 

I’ve never hated anything more.  As much as I want to, I can’t make it stop. 

Because when I answer my phone, read a text or open the door, I’m not only disappointed, sad and depressed, but I feel gutted all over again.  Damn the hope. I’m so sick of feeling this way and it’s starting to piss me off that I can’t shake it.  And hating the hope has thrown a blanket of resentfulness over me, building the anger. 

I go to my door and pull in a breath as I open it, doing my best to beat down the damn hope.  But I’m taken aback when I look up into his face.

“Hey,” Brian says, looking as tense as I feel. 

Although tense, he looks different.  Tired, disheveled or maybe strung out.  I know he’d never be strung out, so I ignore all this when his eyes dart behind me, looking quickly around my apartment.

I don’t feel like being cordial or friendly, so I frown, “What do you want?”

“You’re back,” he says, not answering me.

“What do you mean, ‘I’m back’?” I ask, not moving to invite him in.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, stepping backwards, “I mean, I drove by and saw your car.  I haven’t seen it here for a long time.  I thought I’d stop, see how you are.”

“I’m fine,” I throw back.

“How’s everything else?” he asks, narrowing his eyes on me.

“Great,” I spout.  “I had a big event yesterday, it went perfectly and I have two potential bookings from it.  Charlotte’s working on advertising for me, she’s picked up two new clients in two days, I’m thinking about hiring her.  Gabby took over my blog, you know, for fun.  It’s going over well, so I might expand my following.  I’m on my way to see Rosa, I haven’t seen her in a while and I miss her.  So see, everything’s great.”

“Do you miss me?” he asks.

I feel my mouth drop before glaring, “You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” he answers.

“
You
pulled away from
me
,” I remind him, raising my voice. 

He takes his hands out of his pockets, leaning on the door frame and asks, “You still with him?”

I can’t help that his words feel like a knife, and my voice immediately drops to a hush, “That’s none of your business.”

“You’re not,” he ascertains.

I pull my lips in and take a calming breath.  I do my best to give him a blank look and say as strongly as I can, “No.”

“I told you he’d hurt you,” he states.

I close my eyes and try not to let that knife turn.  When I look up again, I say, “I’m not happy with you.  I’m not happy you gave me an ultimatum, putting our friendship on the line.  I’m not happy you wished anything ill for me and you know you did.  I’m not happy in general right now, but I’m really not happy with you.  I don’t want to see you, I’m on my way to see Rosa.”

With that, I slam the door on him.  And lock it. 

*****

“You came to see me but you’re not going to talk to me?” Rosa asks. 

“Quit asking me about him and maybe I’ll talk to you,” I say licking my fudgesicle stick clean. 

“Leigh told me a little bit about your fellow.  She also told me you won’t talk about it.  She said it had to do with having kids, he doesn’t want anymore.”

There must be something about being eighty-five that allows you to be blunt and say anything you want without remorse. 

“Well, there you go, Rosa.  There’s nothing for me to talk about since you already know everything,” I say.

“Maybe he’ll change his mind,” she states.

I look over at my sweet friend and give her a small smile, “He’s not going to change his mind.”

“Maybe I should talk to him,” she says, looking away from me, I’m sure trying to think of a strategy to win back my “fellow”.

“That’s sweet, but no.  I’m sure I’ll get over it,” I sigh.

She looks back quickly, “Child, I’ve seen him with you.  I expected a ring on your finger before I ever expected this.”

I look away, trying to breathe deep.  I don’t know what I expected when things started between Cam and I, but it wasn’t this.  I fell fast and hard, thinking he felt the same.  I would have guarded myself if I ever thought something like this would come between us. 

“Paige?” she calls softly.

I look back frowning.

“What are you thinking, child?” she asks, even softer.

I feel my tears build instantly, probably from her soft, caressing voice.  And as much as I’ve wallowed, these are the first tears I’ve shed since Cam left me for good in Charlotte’s kitchen.  I’ve bravely kept them at bay for almost a week.

I swallow hard and whisper, “I’m afraid it’s me.  I can’t help but think if he wanted me more, wouldn’t he do anything?  Give me anything?  But then again if I wanted him more, shouldn’t I be able to give up what I want to have him?  I guess it’s nothing more than a standoff.  But it’s over and it hurts.”

“Come here,” she calls with her arms out, flipping her fingers toward herself, showing me what she wants.  I move over on the sofa and she pulls me into her soft, fragile arms, holding me tight against her squishy body.  She whispers her wisdom against the side of my head as my tears flow, “Never underestimate the power of tears, Paige.  You let it out, it’ll make you feel better.  There’re other gentlemen out there in the wild and you’ll find yours.  When you do, you make sure he hands you the world and not an ounce less.  You want your own babies?  You should have them and your fellow should be honored to give them to you.  But if I could bet my old age on it, I bet that boy will come around.  And when he does, you make me proud and welcome him with open arms, don’t make him work for it.  That’s not what a lady does.  You promise me that, child.” 

That’s not going to happen, but I sniff and obey in a shaky voice anyway, “I promise.”

“Okay,” she says, giving me one more squeeze.  “Now, what did you bring to eat?  I’m hungry.  I fed you a fudgesicle first because your color is off.  We both need to eat.”

I start to move when she grabs my hand, halting me.  I look over and she says, “Love you, child.”

I lean into her one more time to hug her and whisper, “Love you, too, Rosa.”

Pulling back, she smiles as I wipe my face, doing my best to grin before going to Rosa’s kitchen where I put the extra food I made her from my event last night.  I need to feed my friend.

*****

Four weeks later…

The second I hear it, I open my eyes and without meaning to, my hand fists the sheets. 

Fuck, when will I stop doing that?  It’s been five weeks. 

Five long weeks where I’ve been irritable, with everyone and everything.  School started two weeks ago and we’re full-on into the football season.  I’m trying to focus on what I need to focus on, but it’s exhausting. 

I’ve got one win under my belt and my new quarterback, Brett Sullivan, is working out better than I thought he would.  He’s worked hard over the summer and bulked up in the gym.  He’s been accurate and even threw a Hail Mary Friday night to come back for the win.  He’s starting to gain interest of some bigger schools.  If he keeps this up, there’s a good chance he could get a full ride with a top program.

Jordy and Cara are a different story.  They stopped asking if Paige would come back a couple weeks ago.  I told them I decided it was best that Paige and I stopped seeing each other.  Cara was sad and reminded me how sad she was repeatedly for the first two weeks.  Jordy on the other hand was different.

Jordy would ask why.  He asked what Paige did to make me want her to leave.  I explained many times she didn’t do anything.  Then he asked what I did to make her want to leave.  That was a tougher question, because there’s no doubt in my mind I made her leave.  It didn’t matter how I explained it, Jordy was angry and decided to focus his anger on Paige.  I’ve done what I could to make that right, but in the end, he’s mad she left.  I knew Jordy and Paige became close after fucking Bekki’s ordeal, but I had no idea the extent of his hold on her.  He’s mad and underneath his anger, I know he’s hurt.  Every time I look at my son, I know I caused that. 

There’s no way I could give her what she wants.  I fucked up with her, wanting her so bad I didn’t think of the future—her future and what she’d want out of life.  I was a selfish asshole who only thought about what I wanted.  But I wanted her bad.

Now, I love my kids and we’ve done okay, the three of us.  I know I don’t do it perfect by myself, but we’ve managed.  And I don’t mean financially.  I’ve got my trust fund.  I’ve only had to touch it once and that was to pay my attorney fees for the divorce and custody battle the first time.  But when fucking Bekki checked out of our lives, I knew that was it.  I was done.  To watch my kids grow up without a mom they deserve is gut-wrenching.  It’s hard enough going it alone with two—never will I chance it again.  I made that decision long ago.

But fuck if life wasn’t sweet for a short time.  So sweet.  It didn’t feel like I was barely managing day-to-day.  And I never realized at the time how good sweet was until I sent her away.  Who knew how easy life could feel when it’s made sweet.  It took the last five weeks—since the day I left her in her sister’s kitchen—to learn that life stopped being easy for me the day I met fucking Bekki. 

As much as I want sweet and easy, there’s no way I can chance having more kids.  What you think is good can be ripped away.  I’ve learned that lesson.

At least that’s what I always thought until I tasted sweet and then spent five weeks missing it.  The mind has a tendency to wander.  As time goes by, mine’s been wandering all over the place.

I reach for my ringing cell and see it’s just after three in the morning.  I frown when I see who it is and say, “Dad?”

“Cam,” he starts, his voice rough.  “Son.”

I sit up in bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Your mom’s in the hospital.  She woke up with chest pains, wouldn’t let me call an ambulance.  I gave her an aspirin and drove her myself.  That woman, so frustrating.  We’ve only been here a few minutes but they think she’s had a heart attack.  They’re waiting for a few more tests to see what’s happened,” he breathes.

“She gonna be okay?” I ask.

“We’re waiting to see, they mentioned some kind of stent to open her up or bypass surgery, but they need to know more first.  We’re hoping for the stent, your mama will be madder than a wet hen if she has to have a bypass,” he says.

I rub my face, “Keep me posted.  I’ll see if I can get a few days off, pull the kids from school.  We’ll drive down and see her.  I need to be at the game Friday if she’s doing okay.  I’ll meet with the team Saturday for postgame and practice.  I can probably drive down Sunday.”

“Your mom’ll like that.  I’ll call when I know somethin’,” he says before we disconnect. 

I fall back on my pillow and stare up at the dark ceiling. 

Today’s Wednesday, I’ll see if I can get a substitute scheduled for a few days next week as long as she’s okay.  We can drive down Sunday, stay a day or two. 

I close my eyes, thinking about my mom’s health, thinking about my dad who’ll be worried about my mom and then think about having to tell the kids about it tomorrow.  I roll to my side with nothing to look at besides my empty bed and lonely pillow.  I reach for that pillow, the same one that once had her wild dark hair strewn all over it in her sleep when she hogged my bed, and I throw it across the room. 

Fuck.

Knowing there’s no way I’ll go back to sleep, I do what I’ve done too many times over the past five weeks.  I get up, throw on dirty clothes from my floor and go to the basement.  The only way to work this shit out is to hit my weights. 

*****

Saturday evening…

“This trip took forever,” Jordy complains.

“I’m hungry,” Cara joins in.

“You both need to settle down, we’re here,” I say as I approach the entrance to the ranch. 

My mom had a heart attack.  It wasn’t massive, but it wasn’t minor.  There was minimal damage, but it was a heart attack all the same.  She had one artery that was ninety percent blocked, they were able to do a stent and avoid bypass surgery.  This all happened Wednesday morning, she’s been home since Friday. 

I stayed for Friday’s game, which we won handily.  Sullivan was even better than last week.  He’s either worked out his kinks or nerves and he was damn good in his second game.  He connected with three receivers from long distances and even ran the ball over a hundred and twenty yards.  Not just that, but he’s a good kid.  I don’t have to worry about his grades every Thursday, making sure he’ll be eligible to play Friday night.