Jessie Belle: The Women of Merryton - Book One (13 page)

“Sorry
about that,” he said.

“No
problem,” I said without looking up at him. I was going to cry if I did and I
had been really good about not crying throughout this week.

“Jessica.”

“Yes,”
I said into my laptop screen.

He
didn’t answer. Instead he joined me and sat on the edge of my bed. I responded
by pulling my legs up and closer to myself. It wasn’t very conducive for
working on my laptop, but I was going into protective mode.

“Jess—”

“What?”

“Please
look at me.”

“No.”
That sounded so childish. Couldn’t he tell I wanted to be alone?

He
took my laptop out of my scrunched up lap and moved it away from me as he
scooted closer.

“I
was using that.”

He
ran his finger alongside my cheek gently. “Jess, I’m sorry. Please, talk to
me.”

I
closed my eyes and could feel the sting of hot tears just waiting to be
released. I remembered Dr. Ames’ words—don’t be afraid to tell him how you
really feel. I opened my eyes and the tears took that as their invitation to
fall down my cheeks.

Blake’s
eyes narrowed in concern as he watched the tears slowly glide down my cheeks.

“I
feel like you have this whole other life now that I will never have any part
of.”

He
inched closer and wrapped me up in his arms. My head fell against his shoulder and
I bathed it with my tears.

“You
are my life and I want to share everything with you, especially Madeline,” he
whispered in my ear. “She’s excited to meet you and I want you to come with me
to pick her up.”

I
pulled away from him and looked at him in disbelief.

“Please
come with me.”

I
brought my hands up and rubbed my face. “What if I’m a horrible stepmother? Or what
if she doesn’t like me? Or what if I don’t like her?”

He
grinned and took my face back in his hands. “I don’t see any of that happening.”

I
shook my head, or at least I tried to within the constraints of his hands.

“I
love you. We are going to make this work.”

“You
sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

“Will
you come with me?”

I
smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

He
kissed me once before releasing my face. “What are you working on in here?”

I
retrieved my laptop and showed him the pictures I had taken. “I was thinking of
getting some of them framed and putting them up at the café.”

He
turned the laptop more toward him and scrolled down the pictures, stopping on
my favorite one. “How close did you get to that bear?” he practically scolded
me.

“I
was in the car. I used my telephoto lens to get that shot.”

“Oh,”
he said, relieved.

“You
know, I’m pretty good at taking care of myself.”

“Yes
you are, but let me take care of framing your pictures for you.”

“Do
you have time?”

“I’ll
make time for you.”

“I
like the sound of that.”

Over
the river and through the woods to Salt Lake City we went. I still wasn’t sure
it was the best idea, but it was important to Blake, and my therapist and my
mom both thought it was a good idea. My therapist suggested it would seem like
I was trying alienate myself from the situation if I chose not to go. So, I
found myself in the passenger seat of my Tahoe. Blake had a thing about him
driving. It was fine with me; it let me enjoy the scenery on our nine-hour
drive up the I-70 corridor.

We
left on the Wednesday after Memorial Day. Tuesday was our first baseball game
and we couldn’t miss that. The team played admirably against Bob’s Automotive
and we started the season off right, winning seven to five. It was a hard
fought game, but in the end we pulled it out. What was harder was all the
staring, especially from the Rileys. They came to check out the competition,
and they were disappointed. Our guys looked great. Blake even hit a home-run.

It
was weird to think that next week I would be sitting there with Madeline. At
least I assumed I would be. Blake and I decided we wouldn’t let her be home
alone until we got to know her better. That was a decision that came with
challenges. Summer school was only from eight to noon during the week, only
during the month of June, and we both had businesses to run. My mom had
volunteered to take her part of the time, but she also suggested that I let her
come to the café the rest of the time. She said I grew up there, and it only
seemed right that Madeline would, too.

I
was still thinking on it. I knew Blake was hoping I would go that route, but he
hadn’t put any pressure on me one way or another. I felt like I had so many
things to deal with at the moment, like salvaging my marriage, coming to terms
that I would never have a baby, losing my baby and, just for fun, my husband
having a daughter. And let’s not forget my body issues. Adding that one nuance
to my life wasn’t an easy decision.

Besides,
I had the feeling Madeline was going to be a handful. She had called the home
phone last week since Blake wasn’t picking up his cell. He was driving and he’s
strict about not talking on the phone and driving at the same time. He had
given her the home phone and my phone as a backup. I can’t tell you how weird
and almost painful it was to hear the words, “Is my dad there?”

I
almost choked as I responded, “No, but I’ll have him call you as soon as he
gets home.”

I
was in no way prepared for the conversation that followed that.

“You
must be my stepmom,” she said, like it was no big deal.

It
was a big deal to me. “Yes, I am.”

“My
dad says I should ask you what I should call you.”

Of
course he did. I rolled my eyes to myself. “You can call me Jessie, if you want
to.”

“My
mom doesn’t want me to call you Mom.”

“I
can understand that.” Wow, this girl was bold.

“She
also says you’re a real neat freak, but nice.”

If
she thought I was a neat freak, she was going to think her dad was certifiable.
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that one, so I went with, “Well, okay.
Blake, I mean your dad,” I choked, “should be home soon. I’ll have him call you
as soon as he gets here.”

But
she didn’t take the hint. “My dad says that I get to have my own room and he
let me pick out the color for it.”

That
made my heart stop. I walked to the baby’s room with her on the phone and I
made myself open the door. Surely I thought Blake would have asked me before he
did anything. All I had wanted was one last look, but I was devastated when I
opened the door to find it empty except for the painting supplies that sat in
the middle of the floor.

“Madeline—”

“I
like to be called Maddie,” she corrected me.

“Okay,
Maddie, we’ll talk more later. Right now I need to go.” And with that I walked
into my Carter’s room and sat against the still-red wall and cried.

Blake
came home a few minutes later and found me there, sobbing.

I
was furious with him. “When did you do all of this? And why didn’t you tell
me?”

He
stood at the door, not sure what to do. All he did was step in. “I thought it
would be easier on you if I took apart the room while you were at work.”

I
pulled my knees up and held on to them for dear life. “You had no right to do
that. Where are his things?”

“Jessica,”
he said as he made his way toward me.

“Don’t
come near me. Tell me what you did with my baby’s things.”

He
stopped dead in his tracks and stared hard down at me. “He was my baby, too.
And just because I know about Madeline now, it doesn’t lessen the pain of
losing him for me.”

His
words pierced me, and on top of my sadness I felt white-hot shame and lowered
my head into my knees and cried into them. In my head, and even in my heart, I
knew Blake wasn’t trying to hurt me and I knew he loved Carter. I would never
forget the distraught look on his face when the nurse couldn’t find a heartbeat
and she called for the doctor. I’ll never forget his tears as he held our
lifeless baby.

Blake
slid down the wall and seated himself next to me. I turned to him and he wasted
no time putting his arm around me. “I put
our
baby’s things in the
attic.”

“I’m
sorry, Blake.”

He
kissed the top of my head. “I should have told you before I moved everything
out. I was trying to spare you some pain.”

“I
know. Blake?”

“Yeah.”

“Do
you ever think I’ll be okay? That we’ll be okay?”

“We
haven’t killed each other yet.”

“I
guess that’s something.” I almost laughed.

“It
will all be okay.”

“You’re
getting good at that line and lying to me.”

He
pulled me closer. “I would never lie to you.”

I
shook myself out of my thoughts and that moment and looked over at my truthful
husband, driving with a purpose. It was like we couldn’t get to Salt Lake City
fast enough. I couldn’t blame him, but I was okay with it taking a while.

I
pulled the cozy mystery I had brought to read out of my bag. I wasn’t sure how
much talking I could expect from my husband. Although we were talking more, he
wasn’t a talkative guy and I knew he had a lot to think about. We weren’t only going
to get Madeline. He had hired his own lawyer and was working on getting his
name on her birth certificate and joint custody, and finalizing child support
payments. He didn’t like to talk about it and, to be honest, I was fine with
that.

I
was a few chapters into my novel about a woman detective who just happened to
be on vacation in Hawaii, when by happenstance a guest is murdered in the same
hotel she is staying at and her love interest is a suspect. Silly, I know, but
my mind appreciated the indulgence and the escape from real life. Oddly, the
love interest was a quiet and mysteriously handsome man. No wonder I was drawn
to the character. I glanced over at my own quiet significant other, who
happened to look at me at the same time.

I
smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear.

He
somewhat smiled back and turned back to the road.

I
turned back to my book.

“Hey,
do you mind if we get our lunch to go when we stop in Grand Junction?”

“Oh.
I guess.”

He
glanced my way. “Does that not work for you?

“It’s
just I promised Lexi she could show me around her new bistro.” We knew each
other from culinary school and she had recently opened up this little bistro in
the heart of Grand Junction.

“Can
we do that on the way home? I’m anxious to get there.”

I
shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll text her and let her know.” I pulled out my phone and
texted my friend, who I was looking forward to seeing. I had looked at her
website and the pictures were amazing—she had this whole chrome-and-steel look
going for her place. She was gracious and said Friday would work for her just
as well. I placed my phone back in my bag and went back to my book.

“Jess.”

“Yeah,”
I answered into my book.

“Thank
you.”

“For
what?” I looked over to him.

“For
coming and for trying.”

“My
mom says there is no trying, only doing.”

I
barely made out a grin on his face before he surprised me and reached over for
my hand.

“Driving
with only one hand. I thought you considered that dangerous?”

He
tightened his hold of my hand. “I’m keeping us safe.”

I
squeezed his hand in response.

“By
the way, I noticed what you did to Madeline’s room. Thank you.”

“You’re
welcome. I couldn’t in good conscience leave the soccer ball comforter you
picked out on her bed.”

“She
said aqua and black were her favorite colors, and she likes soccer,” he
responded defensively.

“The
aqua colored walls are beautiful, but no girl wants a juvenile boy comforter.”

“I
guess I’m learning about girls.”

“And
women,” I threw in.

He
squeezed my hand. “Yeah, those too. Anyway, the room looks perfect thanks to
you. It means a lot to me, especially because I know how hard it must have been
for you.”

Hard
didn’t even come close to describing how it felt to walk into the newly
decorated room. It was completely transformed. It wasn’t only the walls and
furniture. Once upon a time that room was my haven, I would spend hours in
there planning my baby’s life. Now the room felt … alive.

I
really did want Maddie to feel comfortable, so I asked myself what Maria von
Trapp would do. She would have made some bedding from some old curtains, but since
I didn’t sew or have any old curtains lying around, I did the next best thing.
I ordered the cutest crinkle voile black comforter with poms all over it, and
some aqua and white throw pillows to match. I also bought some curtains that
went perfectly with the ensemble and a few accessories for the new dresser and
desk her dad had purchased her. It all went perfectly with the white picket
fence headboard he had made her.

It
looked like a room I would have liked when I was growing up.

“I’m
going to do my best to be a good stepmother to her.”

“Jessica,
I’ve never doubted that.”

“I’m
glad one of us hasn’t.”

“I’m
worried about being a good dad.”

“Well,
you already have the spoiling part down.”

He
let go of my hand and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was embarrassed
by the categorization. “I’m trying not to be critical, but I don’t think
Sabrina has provided her with a very good life.”

I
wasn’t surprised. When I knew her, she barely seemed to be able to take care of
herself. But I didn’t like thinking she didn’t take care of her child, my
husband’s child. It made me wonder what was waiting for us when we arrived in
Salt Lake City. I also couldn’t keep from wondering why it took her so long to
contact Blake.

As
we made our way into the Salt Lake Valley, I turned to my husband. “Remember
this place?” I had very fond memories of this city. I would have never guessed
we would be coming back here over thirteen years later with our marriage in a
so-so place and on the verge of picking up Blake’s daughter that he fathered
with Sabrina. I wanted to know who scripted out my life, because they kind of
sucked at it—or they had watched way too many soap operas. But I tried to
remember the good times we had there, like the mountain hikes and tubing down
the river, the late night walks around the lake and talking until I had to
leave for work. I don’t know how we ever lived on such little sleep, but it all
seemed worth it at the time.

“Yeah,”
he said offhandedly.

I
forgot for a moment who I was married to. Blake was neither sentimental nor
romantic. I sighed softly.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.
I was just thinking that this is where we met and fell in love and we’ve never
come back here together before now.”

“I
didn’t know you wanted to,” he said blandly.

He
wasn’t getting it. I was trying to reminisce and he was, well, being himself. I
turned to look out the window as we cruised down I-15. I tried to count all the
Mormon churches I could see. I’d never been in a place with so many churches.

We
made our way silently to downtown Salt Lake City where Blake booked us at the
Marriott across from the City Creek Center. That’s where I planned to spend my
day tomorrow as Blake met with lawyers and signed paperwork. It was also close
to the castle-looking Mormon temple, so I planned to take a walk around there
and maybe take some pictures.

When
we arrived at the hotel I was suddenly nervous. We hadn’t shared a room since
April, and I was still having issues with my body. Blake offered to sleep on
the pullout couch, but I felt terrible asking him to do that. And it seemed so
dumb. We were married. And it’s not like I didn’t want to have physical contact
with him. I found myself looking forward to the times when he held me or kissed
me, but anything past that was still difficult. He wasn’t pushing. He was a
gentleman, as always. He had always maintained that it was my body and my
rules, but I felt … broken.