It All Started With a Lima Bean (47 page)

Keeping my promise to mum of starting out slow, I told her I would take a short walk to the park near our house. I reasoned that it would be harmless and uneventful in the middle of a weekday. With a spring in my step, I bounded out the door toward my destination, calling over my shoulder that I wouldn’t be any more than half an hour.

With plenty of time to spare, I knew I could afford a few stolen moments of peace lazing in the open space. Lying down, I lean back on my elbows and admire the towering oak tree hovering over me. If the size is any indication, it must be hundreds of years old. Others just like it are scattered all around the edges of the fields. Through the branches and leaves, in varying degrees of greens, browns and oranges, I see glimpses of blue from the sky above. Puffy white clouds are drifting by, continuously changing shape. This doesn’t seem like much, but to me it is so beautiful to be able to enjoy this moment.

My arms are itchy from the ground beneath me, and my hair blows across my face from the light breeze, but I don’t care. I am out of the house, on my own. I inhale deeply, and that glorious clean smell of nature instantly rewards me; I can even notice the hints of bark in the air from the tree behind me. I sigh,
Ahh freedom
, it’s fabulous.

Dropping my gaze to scan the rest of the area, I find that it is fairly empty. The only sound is the leaves rustling in the wind, and I enjoy the silence. I think it is safe to say that the chances of me having to fight the urge to use my ability and help a person are slim. Closing my eyes, I relax and sink back into the grass. I feel the occasional autumn leaf float by as it falls to the ground. My body goes lax as I soak in the peaceful surroundings.

I may have assured to mum that this would be uneventful, but to me, this is the most exciting thing that I have done all year. No, make that the last ten years. I have led a mostly sheltered existence up until now. I am ecstatic to be out on my own, even if it is just here in the park.

Voices in the distance rouse me from my mind’s wanderings, and make me more alert, even though their proximity is not close enough to make me look up. My mind lingers on the tone of a guy’s voice. It is deep and gravely, soothing me, making me feel as though it is wrapping around me like a caress. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I peer over.

Wow
! The view is fabulous. He looks even finer than he sounds. All tan, lean, and muscular, with scruffy brown hair and that’s just the back of him. I need to stop gawking. I strongly suspect that I may actually be drooling too. How attractive of me.

As I ogle this exceptional guy playing football with whom I assume is a friend, I wipe at my traitorous mouth with the back of my hand and slide further back into the shadow of the tree. I tell myself I am not being a stalker; I just do not want him to notice me. If I get up and walk straight past them, I will undoubtedly draw unwanted attention to myself. It is not an option, so I press into the rough bark of the oak tree and stay put.

As much as I wanted to be amongst the outside world, I am still extremely shy and not accustomed to interacting with others. This smoking hot guy is unquestionably not whom I fancy introducing me into the social world. The thought gives me sweaty palms and makes me nervous as hell.

I may have been a recluse for most of my life, although, as innocent as this may have made me, it does not mean I have not had dreams of knowing what it is like to be in the arms of a man. Maybe all the pent up frustration I have from never getting to experience this is why I have a bizarre urge to move closer to him.

The friend he is with doesn’t seem to have the same pull on what I assume is my hormones, though he is equally good looking.
How odd
. Knowing I would ramble like a bumbling idiot if I went over to him stops my urge to go near. I remind myself I am taking baby steps; there is no rush.

“Ally, Ally,” I am jolted out of my trance by my mother rushing over to me, panic lacing her voice. Through her heavy breathing, she conveys what is wrong, “I was so worried about you. You said you would only be gone half an hour, and I tried to call your phone, only to realize you left it at home, and…” her hands are flying around, trying to emphasize her spiel. She is rapidly becoming hysterical and making no sense.

“Mum, slow down. Why are you so upset? I’ve only been gone for…” I glance down at my watch.
Three hours? Oh my goodness, I have been here, zoned out on ‘Mr. Hottie’ for three whole hours?
Averting my eyes, I let out a guilty “Oh.” Wrapping my arms around her, I rub soothing circles on her back with my palm until her breathing is back to normal. The refreshing smell of her light, floral perfume leads me to stay there a bit longer before I pull back and start apologizing profusely. When my conscious eases slightly, I hold my hand out to her, stare back at the makeshift footy field one last time, and then say, “I am sorry to have worried you. Come on mum, let’s go home.” 

Life comes with its share of what-ifs, but what happens when an uncertainty from your past suddenly collides with your present?

Kaitlyn Thomas, a weary wife and mother, is taking a much needed getaway with her friends. All she wants to do is relax and rejuvenate on her weekend escape to the beach. Having a drink at the bar with the girls sounds like the perfect way to unwind. That is, until Kaitlyn hears a familiar voice from the stage that shakes her to her core. She grapples with her memory until Chris King, the lead singer of the band, walks up to her and eliminates the questions in her mind.

Chris King…the misunderstood bad boy who once saved her in ways that no one else could.

Kaitlyn’s friends beg to know the story behind this mystery man. Forced to revisit a painful past from which she has spent years trying to heal, Kaitlyn’s recollection of Chris awakens intense feelings that she has kept buried deep inside her heart. Has time changed him, or is he still the same person Kaitlyn fell in love with so many years ago?

Marriage vows are sacred, but temptation is a powerful thing. Seeing Chris again has caused a war between her head and her heart. In the end, which one will win the battle?

Facing a difficult decision, Kaitlyn just wants to be sure of one thing when she walks away from this weekend—no regrets.

Each thundering crash of the ocean waves in the distance administered a dose of therapy to my soul. With my towel draped across my lounge chair, I reclined by the water’s edge sipping a Piña Colada from a hurricane glass adorned by a tiny pink umbrella. My life had all but suffocated me the past few months, and I desperately needed a change of scenery.

Lisa’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Come on, Kaitlyn. Let’s go inside and get ready to par-tay,” she called, overemphasizing her last word. Lisa’s head bobbed up and down in the water as she swam past me toward the pool ladder.

I suppressed a laugh. Only late twenty-somethings remember when it was cool to pronounce it ‘par-tay.’ There was no need to point out the fact that we were nearly too old to hit the clubs.

Two guys standing at the tiki bar turned to stare at Lisa as she stepped out of the water. She reminded me of a supermodel as she brushed her long brown hair away from her eyes. I met Lisa soon after she found out she was pregnant with her second son. I thought she was the most beautiful pregnant woman I had ever seen. However, Lisa’s sweet disposition far outweighed her attractiveness. Like a fair-complexioned cartoon princess, I could almost picture the birds singing to her while they helped her fold the laundry at home. Unaware of the caliber of her beauty, she never seemed to notice when other men were checking her out. She had been happily married to her high school sweetheart for almost seven years.

I watched the two beefcake rubbernecks at the tiki bar gawk at her over their mirrored aviator sunglasses and chuckled under my breath. “Okay, let’s go,” I replied, before gulping the rest of my drink.

The other girls were toweling off and grabbing their bags to head upstairs to the condo. I looked around my mini-paradise, content with my surroundings. The palm trees swayed against the warm breeze, while the seagulls flew overhead searching for their next meal. The stark white sand glistened for miles under the hot sun, while the swells of the ocean waves toppled against the shore. For the first time I felt a freedom that I hadn’t experienced in quite some time.

I left my single life of drinking and dancing behind the day I found out I was pregnant with Eli. Michael and I had no plans of marriage until we saw those two pink lines on that cold November morning. I had set my future of becoming a pediatric psychologist aside while I made arrangements to become a stay-at-home mom. My entire life seemed to have been on hold the last five years. I quickly learned that being a stay-at-home mom was not all picnics and play dates. I felt trapped under the interminable mountain of laundry, lost amid the infinite overflow of dirty dishes, and exhausted from the incessant whine of a tired and cranky child who only seemed to be comforted by the everlasting song of a purple dinosaur. I couldn’t remember the last time I had enjoyed a night out; I was actually looking forward to it.

I assumed Michael and Eli were just sitting down for dinner at Burger Land. Michael, the staunch and successful CPA at a thriving accounting firm, was much too busy to cook while I was away. He almost balked at the idea of my weekend escape:

“Kaitlyn, I just can’t afford for you to leave right now. I need to go into work the next few weekends to prepare for several upcoming meetings. Work is just more important than some silly girls’ retreat right now.”

“That’s the problem, Michael. Your work. Our lives revolve around your work. You always put your work before your family.”

“My work pays the bills. Last time I checked, laundry and dishes don’t pay the bills.”

“That’s just it, Michael. Laundry and dishes don’t pay the bills, nor do they create a fulfilling life! I’m worth more than just being a servant for this family! Do you know how depressing it is when your daily goal in life is to sweep up crackers off the floor and dig rocks out of pants pockets before throwing them in the washing machine? I feel like I’m in solitary confinement most of the time. Then, my husband comes home and carries his plate of supper into his office only to disappear for hours on end, coming to bed well after I’ve gone to sleep. That happens so often these days that sex is barely even in our vocabulary anymore. I’ve spent the last five years in this unfulfilling life, wiping asses and noses, sweeping crumbs off the floor, and passing a practically nonexistent husband occasionally in the hallway!” Five years of pent up frustration barreled its way out of me in harsh tones and salty tears.

“We all need a break sometimes, Kaitlyn. Don’t you dare think you are the only one sacrificing your needs and wants for this family. I make sacrifices, too!”

“Oh, really? You laugh it up with your coworkers at your lavish dinner meetings, eating filet mignon with lobster tail and drinking three hundred dollar bottles of wine while I sit at home eating chicken nuggets for the third time in a week. When Eli was a baby, you played your endless golf games and slept soundly in your luxurious hotel rooms, while I sat at home breastfeeding until my nipples were raw and cleaning up explosive diapers all night! I never realized those fringe benefits at work were considered sacrifices for you. Please forgive me if I was mistaken.” My seething comments oozed with sarcasm.

Michael glared at me under furrowed eyebrows. He wanted to say something more, but refrained. Instead, he just huffed and stomped to his office, slamming the door behind him.

I stared at his office door, half expecting him to open it back up and say whatever it was he seemed to want to say. But, it remained closed. I could already hear him pecking away at his keyboard on his computer.

What had happened to us over the past few years? It’s not that we hated each other. We were still cordial most of the time, but our marriage had become stagnant and downright boring. We worked great together as a team to run a household and raise a child, but most of the time I felt like we were just roommates passing each other in the bathroom, taking turns using the sink. Our conversations used to be interesting and compelling. Now, it seemed like the only thing we discussed was whose turn it was to put Eli to bed. His office was his sanctuary, and my nose stayed in a book. Slowly, I turned around and walked away from his closed office door, in search of my e-reader with its newly downloaded novel.