A Love We Deserve (True Love Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter 17

Katie’s been acting strangely the last couple of weeks. Not a word about Brian. No questions, no pushing, nothing. If she thinks I’m buying this act, she’s as crazy as I know her to be. Brian has texted me a few times since the last time we saw each other, but I’ve only given him short responses. He’s asked to see me over and over again, and so far I’ve managed to put him off. I know that when I see him again, I’ll be officially head over heels. I think of him every minute of the day, and dream about him every night. I haven’t taken off my necklace since he put it on me. My fingers are constantly drawn to play with the small peach; it’s a little reminder that he’s out there. Right now things are perfect. We shared a beautiful night, and I haven’t said or done anything to ruin it yet. Of course, the longer I put off seeing him, the chances are he’ll give up on me.

The shelter is running like clockwork with Jill at the helm. She focuses all her attention to running the day-to-day operations, so the rest of us are busy trying to get the second location up and running. This spot didn’t need as much renovation, just some updating. It had once been a church, so we are lucky that it has most of the facilities we need in place. Brian has been hard at work pushing to get it completed. I know he’s met with Katie and Jill separately, but he’s giving me my space. I haven’t run into him once. I saw his truck in the parking lot of our offices one morning, but by the time I made it in the door, he was gone. Katie seems to have amnesia about him, but Jill does nothing but bring him up to me every chance she gets.

“Boy, that sweet Brian Eyre sure does talk about you a lot. Always asking lots of questions. Have y’all dated? If not, the poor kid would clearly like too. Throw him a bone, will ya, Mel? Ask him out.”

She doesn’t know our history, but she knows something’s up. I guess he’s not too shy to inquire about me. My heart skips a beat when she tells me that. Then it breaks a little because of how I’m treating him. He deserves so much more than a messed up chick like me with all my baggage. I should do him a favor and cut him off completely. Selfishly, that thought makes me want to vomit. I can’t imagine him with another woman, sharing a night like the one we had. Even as he told me his college stories with other girls I felt more than a little pang of jealousy.

“Yeah, yeah, Jill. Whatever. That guy can have his pick of women. He doesn’t need someone like me.”

Her face drops when I say that. She is such a positive person that she doesn’t tolerate speaking ill of someone, even if that someone is me.

“That’s nonsense, Melanie. You are a bright, beautiful person, and so is he. Enough with the “poor me” talk, you know I don’t like it.”

She huffs off to find someone else to talk to. Ouch. She has never reprimanded me. It was the gentlest of condemnation, but point received. The pity party is over.

Next weekend is the dedication of the new shelter. I’ve been doing most of my work at home to help. I don’t want to run into anyone, and Jill scares me a little. I won’t be able to hide come Saturday. Katie and I are in charge of ribbon-cutting once again. Brian sends me a text the Thursday before, to check on me:
Hi Mel. I just wanted to touch base and make sure you were going to be there on Saturday. Sounds like you’ve been really busy lately, I miss getting to see you. I really hope I didn’t upset you in some way, and if I did I would hope you would tell me. Katie hasn’t said anything, so I guess no news is good news. Take care, B

Man, I’m a world-class, fucked up bitch. Things were simple when I had someone like to Chris to hate. I was always the good guy. With Brian I feel like I’m trying to take that first leap, but my foot is paralyzed in mid-air. He’s too good of a guy to hurt, and that’s all I seem to know about relationships. I type out ten responses to his message, but I don’t send any of them. I’m just not ready.

Saturday arrives, and it’s a cold, wintry day. The sky is dark, and the smell of snow hangs in the air. No matter how long I live in the Midwest, the southern girl in me will always hate this crap. I should be happy today, but the weather and my nerves about seeing Brian have put me in the foulest of moods. Katie even told me she would drive herself when I snapped at her on the phone this morning. She was being sweet, and I just couldn’t take it. To make matters worse, Brian sends me one last text this morning: 
Good morning, Mel. I just want you to know that I get the message, and I’ll stop bothering you. Today is a special day and I don’t want to ruin it for you. You don’t have to feel pressure to talk to me, I understand.

I throw my phone to the floor. I hear a shattering sound, and I just don’t give a fuck. I got what I deserved; he’s leaving me alone. He needs so much more; he just has to see it. He’s a gorgeous football star; he doesn’t need to be wasting his time with me.

My justifications are fueling my bad mood. By the time I’m ready to leave the house, I feel almost deadly. The bitch is on the loose.

I see Jason, Katie and the rest of the staff assembling inside the vestibule. It’s beginning to snow, so we’re all trying to squeeze into a small space. Brian is up near the podium, speaking closely with Jill. Whatever they’re talking about looks intense. Katie gives me a quick wave of her hand, but she doesn’t move to come and see me. I think she’s scared of me today, as well she should be. Instinctively, Jason puts his arm around her and squeezes her against him. Barf. I don’t think I’ll ever have something like that in my life. The thought just pisses me off even more.

Jill reaches the podium, and begins her speech.

“Good afternoon, friends!”

Ugh. Happy as ever.

“We’re here today, as you all know, to celebrate the opening of our second shelter. We have all been blessed beyond measure to be standing here today. Those of you who helped make this a reality know how much you’ve received in return. Knowing that these women and children who would normally be out on the street are having hot meals and a place to lay their heads helps me sleep at night. We are all responsible for one another in this lifetime, my mother told me as a child, and I watched her live it everyday. Her influence on me is what sparked my fire as an adult. Today I have someone else who would like to share his story. May you find yourself as inspired as I was when I heard it. Please welcome, the Chicago Bears own, Brian Eyre.”

Oh shit. I have a rock in my gut that seems to be growing. I don’t know if I can hear what he has to say.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’ve never been known as much of a public speaker, so please bear with me. I’ve known Jill for a while now, her husband is my coach and he pushes me pretty hard.” He smiles. “She’s always been the nicest person to me, and she never fails to check on all of us players, especially the single guys, to make sure we’re doing OK. So of course it didn’t surprise me when I found out that she was trying to open a shelter. I knew she would succeed. She has love and tenacity, and in life that combination will get you far.

“I knew another lady with the same love and tenacity. She found herself eighteen and pregnant by her high-school sweetheart. Her minister father threw her out of the house when she told him. The boy’s parents sent him off to the military. She had no place to go or anyone to help her. She gave birth in a gas-station bathroom, on a hot Georgia day. She lived only by the grace of strangers willing to help. She found a shelter for herself and her little baby where she could stay and get healthy. She learned how to cook, and got a job in a restaurant. She was able to save enough money to buy an old, rusted-out car, which doubled as a house. She did all she could to make sure her boy never went hungry. By the time high school began for him, she had managed to get a tiny apartment for the two of them. She struggled through pain and hardship for years, but the boy never knew it. The love from her was so great that he was shielded from the harsh reality of their situation.

“The boy was a talented athlete, and realized that he may be able to provide for his mother one day if he could stay focused and make the NFL. That dream, that goal, is what motivated him every day of his life. His dreams weren’t of sports cars and luxury houses; they were only of his mother and taking care of her. His college career, while successful, was made difficult by rumors about his past. He ignored anyone and everyone who tried to pull him down or away from his goal. He was singularly focused. When his dream came true, the first thing he did was buy his mother a house. She insisted that it be small, she didn’t need much, and that he save his money to help others. She never complained or asked for more, even when her health began to deteriorate. The cancer didn’t care how young she was, or how hard her life had been. The cancer decided that her time was up, and she gave in unwillingly. She fought all her life, it just wasn’t enough to save her.

“The story is, of course, about me and my mother. I made a donation to Jill’s cause that I hoped would remain anonymous, but I wanted to share my mother’s story after she died. I don’t want her to be anonymous. When she learned that her illness was getting worse, she stopped treatment and insisted that I use the money for good instead of throwing it away on a lost cause. In her memory, I would like to match my original donation amount of $500,000 to help toward long-term operating expenses of these shelters. My only request is that it be named for her, Mary Elisabeth Eyre, so that we can remember the beautiful woman who inspired it.”

He backs from the podium, and pulls a cloth away from a large photo propped up on an easel. It’s a photograph of her at a Bears football game, standing next to Brian. She was a waif of a woman, very beautiful, but with a face aged well beyond her years. Both of them have big smiles on their faces. The tears in my eyes cloud the image, but he looks happy. I take a closer look at the photo and notice a small chain around his mother’s neck. I’m a good distance away, but I know exactly what it is. The peach necklace. I feel my heart break in half, so much so that I can barely summon the strength to move. I have to get out of here. I knew he had pain, but I had no idea it went that deep. My heart is breaking for him, not myself, and I don’t want him to see the pity on my face. Katie sees me as I’m walking away, and flags me down.

“Mel, Jason told me all of that. His mom had just passed away when he went to Georgia a few weeks ago. He cares a lot about you, but he feels like this would all be too much for you to handle. Please show him how strong you are, don’t run now.”

“I can’t, Kat, I just can’t right now. I can’t face him knowing how rude I’ve been through the hardest time in his life.”

I run all the way to my car. I get in and can’t turn the key; I break down. I’m crying and can’t catch my breath. I see images of him as a little child. The taunts he must have gotten in school make me sick to think about. No wonder he kept to himself. The vultures out there always seem to look for and find weakness, even in the strongest of people. The crowd is beginning to dissipate, so I force myself to leave and go home.

As I’m driving, one of the things he said in his speech pops into my head. The donation! He was the one! I never even gave him a second thought in regards to that. I thought for sure it was one of the big-time CEO’s who made it. He’ll end up giving Jill a million dollars for this charity. She’ll be able to help so many through his generosity. I can’t see the road. This is ridiculous.

I make it home without running off the road, and my shattered phone is ringing as I enter the house. It’s Katie.

“You and I were supposed to cut the ribbon, Mel! Don’t worry, though, Jill and I did it. Brian was looking for you after everyone left. He asked if you heard everything. I told him you did. He seemed worried that you left. He told Jason he was concerned that it would be too much for you. That’s why he let you go. He doesn’t want to give you more heartbreak. Those were his words.”

“OK, Kat. Thanks for letting me know.”

I hang up on her. What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? I’m tired, cranky and dehydrated from all the crying so I go up to my bed and pass out.

* * *

I don’t hear from Brian. I guess he was waiting for me to make a move, and here I stand, one foot in the air, unable to move. He gave me his mother’s necklace. I still haven’t taken it off; it’s too precious to me.

Jason and Katie have a big Christmas party for his physical therapy practice coming up. I agree to come over and watch the kids for them; I don’t have anything else planned. This is the last time Chris will have the boys before Christmas, so he has them for the whole week. My sadness is profound, deep in my bones. I’ve seen Brian on the sidelines of the games, looking as handsome as ever. He doesn’t seem quite as brooding as he did. Perhaps telling his story was cathartic for him. Jill names both shelters for his mother, and pictures of her are featured prominently throughout. Her story helps inspire other women trying to go it alone. It is possible to raise a child with love under adverse conditions.

His leg is healing well, according to Jason, and he should be playing again by training camp. Jason says he’s stronger than ever and has put on twenty pounds of pure muscle to strengthen his legs. I can’t even imagine more muscle. My stomach does a little flip thinking about his legs. Georgia was the perfect school for him, since the mascot’s a bulldog. Solid, stubborn and tenacious, just like him. I’ve no doubt this injury will push him to be in better shape than before; if that’s even possible.