Hearts In Rhythm (2 page)

They had ordered dinner and unlike his other blind dates, they lingered over dessert. The first date led to another and then another. It didn’t take long for him to be madly in love with her, and she with him.

When she introduced him to her family, it was a welcoming breath of fresh air for Brandon. A normal family, if ever there was one. Her parents were still married and happy to be so. She had two older doting brothers who didn’t give him the third degree, but rather enjoyed a friendly game of touch football or five-card poker. He’d heard about these perfect families before but never truly experienced them.

His family was certainly lacking in the love department. His parents divorced when he was 8. They spent the rest of his childhood and teenage years badmouthing one another.

His mom was an alcoholic who put on airs in order to rub elbows with the hoity-toity. While his dad was a workaholic who didn’t understand the meaning of the word monogamy. It didn’t take his parents running each other down for Brandon to figure out that neither of them were worth his time. He was better off keeping his distance, calling on holidays and birthdays, and attempting a visit once a year to his small hometown where they both still lived.

His younger sister Destiny, on the other hand, was worth his time and was still living at with his mom, being shuffled to his dad every other weekend and on Wednesday evenings, bearing the brunt of their resentment toward each other. Brandon checked in with her, texting her regularly to make sure she was making it okay.

Part of him was dreading Thanksgiving. After lunch with Simone’s family, he would be making the drive to Westport to visit his own family. He mostly operated out of guilt and necessity. He knew his folks wouldn’t be around forever, and he didn’t want to look back and have any regrets that he hadn’t done his part as a son. And plus, he and Destiny were planning on hitting all the Black Friday sales.

Unlike most males, he didn’t mind shopping; actually he enjoyed it. Of course, none of his friends would admit to liking it themselves, so he had to go alone, or take Destiny. He made good money in his job at the hospital, and he didn’t mind splurging on her. She was in 8
^th
grade now, and he knew how important it was to wear the right brands. He would relish his time tonight and tomorrow with the Chesher family, endure the separate visits with his mom and dad, and enjoy a wonderful shopping experience fighting all the crowds on Friday with Destiny.

But first, he was working up his nerve for something even bigger.

* * * *

Simone floured the countertop and plopped the ball of dough on the surface. A puff of flour rose like a small explosion.

“Who wants to help me bake this pie?” she asked to the kitchen full of family. She was met with nothing but silence. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder.

“I know you’ve all heard the story of the little red hen. No help means no pie for anyone but me.”

“I would’ve answered you, but it’s bad manners to talk with your mouth full,” her brother Ben answered talking through a mouth full of food.

Brandon was at her side in a flash.

“I’ll help my little red hen,” he said.

She tossed him an apron. “Good answer.”

Simone rolled out the dough for the piecrust while Brandon mixed the canned pumpkin, sugar, spices, and evaporated milk in a large mixing bowl. The kitchen was alive with good feelings and smells. Simone’s family was a loud family, with everyone talking over everyone else, jokes being told, and laughter echoing through the house. Brandon mixed the ingredients to the correct consistency and waited while Simone pressed the crust into the pie pan. The family was standing around the bar and sitting at the table, enjoying snacks of chips and dip, sausage balls, and deviled eggs.

Brandon looked around. He had much to be thankful for. This family had accepted him when he felt most abandoned. He was especially thankful for this beautiful girl standing beside him humming softly.

He picked up his glass of soda and tinged it with a spoon covered in pumpkin batter, leaving a smudge on the side of his glass. “May I have everyone’s attention please?”

The family stopped their laughter and talking and turned toward Brandon.

“I just want to tell you all how thankful I am for you. I know it’s not Thanksgiving yet, and I might be a little early with my gratitude, but well, everyday should be Thanksgiving right? I’ve never experienced the kind of love that you all have shown me here, and even though I was going to wait until Christmas, I just can’t wait any longer.”

He walked over to the kitchen chair where he had draped his jacket and pulled out a small red velvet box. On bended knee, he held the box before Simone.

He watched as her flour-covered hands went to her mouth in an attempt to hold in her gasp.

“Simone, you are my love. You are everything a woman should be. Beautiful, charming, funny, and dangerously sexy.”

He heard her father clear his throat.

“I have never known love like the love I have for you. I want to spend the rest of my life basking in it. Simone,” he opened the ring box, “will you marry me?”

Her hands fell from her mouth to her heart, “Yes! Oh Brandon, yes!”

She put out her left hand and he gently pushed the two-carat diamond onto her ring finger. She held it out, studying it, and screamed jumping up and down.

As soon as he stood, she threw both arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, causing him to lose his balance and topple backwards into the fridge with her pressed against him.

Her father cleared his throat again. “Okay, okay, it’s not the wedding night yet.”

Simone stepped away from Brandon as her mother came around the table. She threw her arms around her and embraced her. The men of the family came around giving out congratulations with handshakes and pats on the back. After the obligatory congratulations and ring gazing was over, Brandon moved away from the men and found Simone. He dusted the flour off her nose feeling the happiest he’d ever remembered feeling.

Chapter Two

When Allie arrived at home after her shift at the store, the shooting pain in her ankle had subsided to a dull throb. She carried the milk into the kitchen and placed it in the refrigerator. She heard the sound of running footsteps across the wooden floor.

“Mama!” Samuel called.

Allie took a step and reached down to swoop up her son, but the pain in her foot reminded hindered her, so she instead crouched down and welcomed him into her arms.

“Hi baby. How’s my boy doing today?”

“Will you play with me, Mama?”

Allie ruffled the shock of dark hair on top of his head. He was going to need a haircut very soon.

“Let Mama sit down a minute okay, baby. I’ve hurt my foot. Where’s Grams?”

“I’m in here,” Allie’s mother called from her bedroom.

Allie carefully headed down the hallway with Samuel leading the way. He ran everywhere he went these days. It seemed like just yesterday that he had learned to walk. Her mother was in her bed propped up with pillows. She had a book resting on her chest and the TV was blaring. Allie looked at the screen. Some people dressed in furry creature costumes were singing and dancing on a stage. It was one of Samuel’s favorite shows.

Allie climbed in bed next to her mother. She grabbed a pillow and placed it under her foot to elevate her ankle. Samuel bounced between them but settled after Allie’s cautionary warning about her foot. She looked over and studied her mom. It was as if Allie was seeing her for the very first time. Bags hung under her eyes, her skin hung loosely from her cheeks, small lines framed her mouth. Even though Gail was only forty-six years old, she acted and looked much older. Her reading glasses were perched on the edge of her nose, only exemplifying the image.

“Hard day?” Gail asked, taking her glasses off and using her thumb and forefinger to squeeze above the bridge of her nose.

“It wasn’t bad,” Allie lied, noticing the gray that had overtaken her mother’s auburn hair. “Got tomorrow off anyway. I’m glad about that. Looks like you’ve had it rougher than me.”

“I was thinking we’d get lunch at the café tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds great, Mom.”

Allie didn’t really care about a traditional Thanksgiving meal, as long as she was with her mom and Samuel. It was just the three of them. Her mom had stuck with her through it all. Samuel was born when Allie was seventeen. During the pregnancy, Gail pleaded with her to put him up for adoption. “You just don’t know what you’re up against.”

Allie knew it would be hard. Many nights she lay awake weighing her choices. Samuel’s father, Dylan, made it clear from the beginning that he wanted no part in raising a baby. He advocated for abortion. At 17, Allie had believed she loved Dylan and wanted to do whatever kept him around, no matter what. He had all but convinced her abortion was best. The day of the appointment, she pulled into the parking lot of the clinic and put the car in park. She placed her hands on her abdomen as the nausea rolled around. She hadn’t experienced morning sickness and besides that, it was 2:00 in the afternoon. It was her nerves creating the upset stomach.

“I’m gonna be sick,” she said to Dylan. He was slumped down in the passenger seat, nodding his head to the beat of the music. Coldplay was on the stereo.

She opened the car door and vomited all over the white line separating her car from the parking space next to her.

“Believe me babe, you’ll feel better when it’s all over.: Dylan said, never glancing her way.

“Really Dylan? Because how would you know? You’ve never done this. You’ve never been in my shoes.”

“Babe. I just know. You’ve got to trust me. We have our whole lives to have babies.”

Allie looked at him. He was unbelievably gorgeous, and she never believed she could have someone like him.

“I love you, babe. I always will. I’ll be there for you, through it all, okay?” He put her hand on her shoulder. “Ew, you smell like puke.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting the leftover particles of bitter vomit. She looked around for a bottle of water. She usually had three or four rolling around in her floorboard, but she had cleaned her car out just yesterday and there was nothing, not even a sucker wrapper.

She sat up and looked out the windshield in time to see a young girl walking out of the clinic. Her head was in her hands. An older man and a woman flanked her on either side. Her parents, Allie presumed. They each had an arm around her and she was leaning on them so desperately they were practically carrying her to the car, like an injured animal. When they reached the curb, she took her hands from her face in order to make the step down from the sidewalk to the parking lot.

It was then that she made eye contact with Allie. The pain in her eyes bored into Allie’s soul. The hurt. The grief. They held eyes for it seemed like several minutes, which in reality was only a few seconds. But in those few seconds, Allie saw in her soul. She felt her pain. She saw her pleading with Allie not to do what she had just done.

Allie put the car in reverse.

Dylan jerked his head towards Allie. “Babe, what’re you doing?” Dylan asked. But Allie didn’t answer. She backed away from the clinic. She never said a word the entire way to Dylan’s house where she dropped him off.

Allie was relieved to see her mom was not home from work when she pulled into the drive-way to their small house. She must’ve run an errand, Allie thought. She rushed in the house and jumped in the shower. She had read a survey in a magazine that one of the best ways to hide your tears is by taking a shower. She let the water get as hot as she could bear and gingerly stepped into the tub. She stood with her arms resting on the tile; her head on her arms and let the water wash away her grief.

She looked down at her abdomen and envisioned the little tadpole in there. She touched her stomach. She remembered the image of the transparent being in her ninth grade biology book when they studied reproduction. A real life was growing inside her. It seemed surreal. The heart was a dark shadow in the small body pulsating with life, causing her to be aware that this in fact was not surreal. This was real. There was a baby inside her.

Her tears gave way to sobs. She held her stomach and the sobs shook her entire body. How could she have been so stupid? Two wrongs don’t make a right. She should’ve never allowed Dylan to convince her to have sex with him. She knew it was wrong, and to think she came so close to killing an innocent baby today. Her baby. It wasn’t this child’s fault that she was an idiot.

The tears continued to come. Tears of remorse, tears of grief, tears of worry, tears of regret. They rolled down her cheeks, onto her breasts, then mingling with the water from the shower.

After she drained herself from all tears, she toweled off and dressed herself. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table when she walked into the kitchen. She lifted the glass of ice tea to her lips, but it stopped in midair when Gail looked at her daughter. She set the glass down and moved towards her.

“Allie? What’s wrong?”

So much for Allie hiding her tears. She should have known her mother would know. Didn’t she always? Just like that time Allie had lost her mother’s diamond ring. She was told to stay out of her jewelry, yet she snuck in her mother’s bedroom anyway and lifted the lid of her red velvet jewelry box. Carefully fingering the ring, she turned it over and over. She was just going to try it on, just for a minute. She placed it on her wedding finger, but it slid right off. She tried it on each finger of her left hand and then her right.

The phone rang, distracting her. So she closed the lid to the jewelry box and ran to answer the phone. It was not until she was getting ready for bed that evening that she remembered the ring. She looked at her hand, but of course it was missing. She waited until her mother went to sleep and then Allie searched the house, panicked, afraid of what her mother would do, afraid of what she would say.

The fear of the punishment she would receive waned in comparison to the hurt and disappointment she would cause her mother. She couldn’t sleep that night for crying and worrying. The next morning, Gail knew something was wrong before Allie spoke a word.

Now standing in the kitchen, that seven-year-old little girl who lost a ring surfaced again. The little girl who was afraid to tell her mother of the huge mistake she had made. She couldn’t keep the tears from falling again. Although some girls cry to try to soften the blow that they know is coming, this was not Allie’s intention at all. She tried to be strong, she wanted to be strong, but standing before her mother, she weakened. She spoke the words, “I’m pregnant.”

      Gail drew her daughter into her arms and Allie felt her burden lifted. She hadn’t realized how heavy the truth had been until she released it there in the red and white kitchen. It was a relief. Her mother held her while she sobbed on her shoulder. At only seventeen, she stood three inches taller than her mother. Allie let out a big sigh. Gail took a step backwards keeping her hands on Allie’s arms. She reached up and wiped Allie’s cheeks.

“I love you. No matter what, I will always love you. We’ll get through this. The baby will have a good home with another family, we’ll make sure of it.”

She was shocked to hear her mother say it, but she understood. Allie knew adoption was the next best option. She was ashamed of herself for toying with the abortion idea, but keeping the baby would prove to be too difficult a task for her. She knew people who had done it, she’d watched it on TV, but she had big dreams ahead that didn’t involve a baby. Like college and traveling.

“Being a parent is hard, but being a single parent,” Gail convinced her, “a single,
young,
parent. Allie, it’s best for everyone.”

She went through the adoption process. She met with the family, she agreed to the stipulations. She was fully prepared to give her baby to another family. Or so she thought. But then the nurse handed him to her wrapped in the worn hospital blanket. She shouldn’t have ever held him. His eyes were so clear and wide, like he couldn’t wait to see who his momma was. Immediately, there was an unspoken bond.

He calmed in her arms. She studied his face. His dark hair peeked out from the blue striped cap he was wearing. She drew her finger down his check and he instinctively turned toward it, hungry and hoping for a breast. She unwound the blanket to look at all the parts of him. Her eyes took in his red skin, his long fingers, skinny legs, wrinkled knees, and his feet with bits of skin peeling. Her heart filled with a love she had never experienced. This little person lying in her arms was hers.

Exhaustion took over and it brought the anxiety of giving him away with it. She began to weep. She wiped the tears that fell on his stomach, wrapped the blanket around his tender body, and drew him close and nuzzled him in her neck while her chest heaved with sadness.

      She looked at her mother and shook her head. “I can’t. He belongs with me. I can’t say good-bye.”

      “Allie, you must.”

“No mom, I must keep him.”

“Allie, the family is waiting. You’ve already agreed.” Gail reached for the baby. She placed her hands on him and began to gently pull him from Allie. Allie resisted and held him tighter. Samuel began to cry.

“No, Mom! He’s mine.”

Gail removed her hands and turned and walked from the room.

* * * *

It turned out, Allie’s mom was right. A baby is a huge responsibility. Gail was upset, but it didn’t last long. Allie noticed her mom soften the first time she held him. She loved him instantly. She surprised Allie by having a nursery all set up and painted by the time Allie and Samuel were discharged from the hospital.

Things were very different after he was born. Allie went to an alternative high school where she was allowed to take Samuel. He was cared for in an in-house daycare while she finished her diploma requirements.