Authors: TK Carter
Chapter Thirty-Two
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss
Chance
I had a huge decision to make—more like I had to find it in me to follow through with staying in Columbia. Over the last few months, all that kept me going was leaving. We all know Michelle is going to be fine until she isn’t. After putting all the details in order, it looked like both parties were equally at fault for the mess at home—even if we all agreed that Brandon’s still an asshole.
I threw my car keys on the island in my kitchen and stared at my apartment—all ready for me to high-tail it to Florida, and now I have to tuck tail and beg Stuart to let me stay at the station. On the other hand, I didn’t have to go back to the station just because I wasn’t leaving the state. I’d paid up my apartment and utilities and still had a nice nest egg to support myself—well, minus the fifteen hundred dollars I’d given Michelle. I gave Chubs his after-potty treat, rubbed my hands over my face and headed into the shower—it’s where I do all my best thinking.
One of my favorite things in the world is the feeling I get when I ease my head under the hot water in the shower and feel my hair smooth as the worries roll down the drain. God, I sound like Alissa, now, her and her visualizations. I sighed as my body relaxed, my mind rinsed, and I could see the facts without the cloudy remnants of the last exhausting twenty-four hours. One: Michelle was probably elbow-deep in all the things she loathes and loving every minute of it, so she’s fine. Two: I could still leave with Alissa and Dani and spend the next five months with my toes in the sand all day and fruity drinks sweating right along with me at night on the fabulous veranda I’m sure we’ll have—at least in my mind the house has a veranda. She better have gotten me a fucking veranda. Three: Alissa needs me to be there. She looks cool and collected from the outside and puts up an awesome front, but just behind her beautiful blue irises is a woman who knows she’s in too deep. I’ll be honest—I don’t know what to do now. Before, it was my job to remind her of how she felt before she got pregnant. However, now it feels wrong and slimy to keep reminding her of all the reasons why she doesn’t want to revisit parenthood when she looks so freaking maternal.
Four: Tony—that unsettled open door that creaks in my core. Some days I hide my phone under the couch cushions to keep from texting him. Other days I look at the screen and try to conjure the ability to make him text me first so I can respond ever so nonchalantly that I’m preparing for five months in Florida so he can chew on that. Bastard. Then I think about being in Florida—that feeling of finality that washes over me knowing that I can’t just jump in my car, drive ninety miles and throw myself into his arms. Which I would never do anyway, but still.
I can’t stay here. There—I said it aloud. Well, kind of. My gut tells me Michelle is going to be just fine. I’d planned to call Katie later to smooth the waters with her—I can’t leave with her being so upset, and I know she’s at her house devouring herself in misery that her closest friends are angry with her. She probably didn’t deserve all that, but it was easier to diffuse Michelle without her there. She’s always been one to forgive and forget especially if she feels understood. I’ll appeal to her like that. I’ll also let her know that Alissa needs me and Michelle needs
her
—so we’ll both be right where we need to be.
But more than all that, I need this. I have a feeling that all the answers to my questions are buried in the sand on a beach in Naples, and I intend to take my time sifting through the grains. I think it will help me gain perspective and give me a chance to make the game plan for the next phase in my life.
Whatever that is.
After my shower, I called Alissa to share my breakthrough. She answered on the third ring. “Please tell me you’re going to Florida.”
I smiled. “I’m going to Florida.”
She sighed heavily in the phone and whispered, “Oh thank God.”
“Hey there, sister, quit blowing in my ear. You’re turning me on.”
“You like it. Okay, so the original plan is still intact, then? Same timeline as before?”
I said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I . . . I can’t stay here, Lis.”
She whispered, “I can’t do this without you, Chance.”
“Well, then I say we combine out superpowers and do this shit together. You know—all that shit we can’t do alone.”
She whispered again, “Can I come over for a little bit? I have to get out of this house . . . like alone. Minus one kinda thing.”
I grimaced and tried to ignore the drama brewing in her comment. “Sure. I just got out of the shower, so bra is optional. I’m not wearing one. Consider yourself warned.”
She giggled. “I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, she breezed through the doorway shedding her coat, purse, and scarf while never breaking stride. “She’s driving me crazy, Chance!”
I shut the door behind her and shook my head. “Well hello to you, too, preggers. What’s the dealio?”
She spun around and threw out her arms as she chanted, “‘How are you feeling, Lis? Do you need anything, Lis? Is the baby moving, Lis? Are you hungry, Lis? Are you sure you should be lifting that, Lis?’ I’m losing my fucking mind!” She plopped down on the sofa and kicked off her shoes. “I feel like a total asshole for even talking about this, but dammit, I just want to be left alone for a minute. Just one minute! Geez!”
I smirked. “I’m sorry, Michelle, I was expecting Alissa. Could you come back some other time?”
“Ha-ha, funny.” She threw her head back and groaned. “It’s just so frustrating.” She sat up straight and pointed at me. “And don’t you dare tell her a thing about this.”
I threw up my hands. “Oh, hell no. I don’t want none of that crazy directed at me. I didn’t notice her being overly attentive, but I was more focused on Michelle and trying to keep her from killing Katie.”
“Well, she’s so stinking sweet and gracious. My gosh, can she just be normal for a minute? I realize this is a big deal for her, but we’ve got a long time to go before the baby comes.”
I sat on the other end of the couch and curled my legs under me. “Permission to ask the tough question, counselor?”
“Granted.”
“Are you sure this is about her ‘attentiveness’ and not a projection about how you’re really feeling about everything?”
She blinked twice before the sigh escaped. She slouched. “Maybe.”
I shrugged. “Well, it’s good you came to me instead of saying something to her. You’re going to have to keep this in check, sweets. She’s not the reason you’re upset. And I don’t mean to sound insensitive or cold when I say this, but I really think once the baby is born and Dani takes custody, you’re going to realize how spot-on this decision is for you.” I sucked in my breath and waited for her to respond. I really put it out there with that one, and I wasn’t sure of her reaction.
She sighed heavily and mumbled, “I’m not so sure I feel that way anymore.”
“Tell me why you feel that way, Lis.” I love the many faces of Alissa. She’s such a chameleon, and I blame her mother that—for putting her in such situations of uncertainty that caused Alissa to be able to transform based off setting. Thanks to my fabulous, fine-tuned journalistic spidey senses, I could catch her when she was trying on an emotion for size—how she
should
feel, how she
should
react, how she
should
respond—never really trusting herself. The bad thing is she could read me just as easily. Maybe that’s why we’re so close. “Lis, I don’t want to hear what you think I want to hear. I want to know how you feel.”
She chewed on her lip and chose her words carefully. “I don’t know how to feel.” She looked at me and repeated. “I don’t know how to feel.”
I chuckled. “Sure you do. You
feel
something right now. What is it?”
She ran her hand across her baby bump. “It’s all jumbled up, Chance. My head, I mean. One minute, I think I’ve made a huge mistake telling Dani she can have my baby, but I can’t tell if I’m just hormonal and all sappy because I can feel the little movements. Then I think I might have gotten my one chance to do it right, ya know? Like this was my opportunity to actually be a good mother . . .”
“But Lis, you were never ‘a mother.’ You were a sister forced to take on a parental role too early in life. And the way your sisters turned out—that’s not a reflection of you at all.”
“But that’s what I’m saying. If this was my chance to prove to myself that I didn’t fuck up my sisters.”
I sat back and looked at her. “Do you really feel you need a baby to prove that?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Okay, let’s go at this another way. Midnight feedings, diapers, formula, fevers, teething, colic . . .”
“Giggles, first steps, first words, Santa Claus, cuddles, unconditional love . . .”
I smiled. “You really have been thinking about this.”
“I remember when Hilary took her first steps,” she grinned. “She was so cute in her little T-shirt onesie and diaper.”
“I gotta tell you, kiddo, I don’t know how to talk you through this one. I feel like an asshole for pushing you to stay the course, and I also feel like I’m supposed to help keep you focused on what you always wanted—or didn’t want—our whole adult life.”
She leaned forward and put her face in her hands. “I know. I
know
. God, how did I get myself into this mess? I already know what’s going to happen. I just need to know if I can live with it.” She looked at me and continued, “Ever have those moments when you wish you could just take one glimpse into the future and see five minutes of your life just to see if you’re making the right decision right now?”
Tony.
She smiled and waved a finger at me. “I know what you’re thinking, so that answers my question. You tell me what you’re going to do about all that right now.”
I shrugged. “I’m going to Florida. That’s five months and hundreds of miles away from him. I’d say my ‘what-am-I-going-to-do’ is pretty evident.”
“You don’t think that’s going to eat you alive?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. What’s done is done, sister. I can’t change it.”
“But you really didn’t give him an opportunity to explain.”
I sighed and contemplated hitting her with a pillow, but I can’t hit a pregnant lady. “I know, I know. I don’t see any reason to let him, okay? Is that better?”
She chuckled. “Not at all. He wanted you back. You heard what you wanted to hear from the Barbie doll so you could slip right back into self-protection mode and not ever have to face the opportunity of rejection again. Isn’t it true that you intentionally didn’t respond to multiple texts and phone calls?”
“Wow, look at you lawyer-out on me. Okay, I’ll be on the witness stand. Yes, that’s correct; I did refuse. In my defense, it’s easy for someone to say something in private. Who’s to say he wasn’t going to continue to see her and tease me on the side?”
“Who’s to say he was truly with her in the first place, and that she was just being the catty bitch we all assume she is?”
“Objection, your honor. Counselor is entering items into evidence that were not in disclosure.”
She laughed. “Oh lord, you’ve been watching television again. Doesn’t matter, Chance. We could what-if this to death. The point is that you had the opportunity to know the answer and chickened out. Why?”
“Because his answer doesn’t change anything, Lis! We’re still in two different cities with two different lives. He wants me to uproot and move to St. Louis.”
“Yet I can ask you to basically quit your job, leave your apartment and life for half a year and you barely blinked before agreeing.”
“Ugh, why do you suck so badly?”
“If you hadn’t had so many failed relationships prior to meeting Tony, you’d probably be married and living in St. Louis right now. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I disagree.
Because
I’m not married, I
can
uproot and relocate for half a year and not think twice about it. That’s what I like about my life, Lis. That’s what I don’t want to change—what I don’t want to lose.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Chance. The defense rests.”
And that was my predicament. I wanted it both ways. I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too. Tony was so perfect for me in every way, but he wanted me to compromise what wasn’t optional. He wanted me to be his wife, his plus one, his (gulp) baby mama—I just wanted to love him. He wanted to wake up to me every morning, and I wanted to sleep in the middle of the bed every night. If we revisit this equation, the answer is still the same, right?
Unless one of us changed our minds.
Chapter Thirty-Three
On Bended Knee
Alissa
It’s finally December 28, the morning we leave for Naples, Florida, and forget about life in Missouri for five months. No surprise I didn’t sleep last night. I finally gave up the fight a little after five and slipped into the living room to drink some juice and wait for the baby movements to start.
The house looked vacant without the Christmas decorations. When I was a kid, we lived in one place long enough to have a few Christmases there. We had a sad little tree that was maybe four feet tall. After Christmas, Mom just picked it up and took it fully decorated to the garage. I remember slipping out to the garage, plugging in the lights, and staring at the lights all throughout the year. There was something transforming about it. Not that Christmas was ever a big deal to me. I never really benefitted from the holiday. However, I always felt a sense of grief when the tree was gone and Christmas was over. Just another reminder that Santa had once again forgotten me.
A familiar tug of sadness yanked at my heart as I looked at the treeless corner. Eleven months out of the year, it doesn’t bother me, but from December 26 through the 31
st
, it makes me sad. I don’t spend much time in this room that week. Then I’m over it.
The next time I sit in this chair, I’ll be nearly recovered from childbirth and likely drinking a bottle of wine or three, pretending life goes on. Which it does. Dani will be across town neck-deep in maternal bliss and learning about a completely new level of exhaustion. I may see if Chance will stay with me for a few weeks when we get back. Might put that on my list of things to consider when I’m not pregnant. Many things sound like a good idea right now, but execution may be a problem. Knowing Chance, after spending this much time with people, she’ll go into hiding for months when we get back to Missouri. Can’t really blame her since she’s not used to it. The older she gets, the more introverted she becomes.
The plan was to leave by eight. Dani, being the good little husband, took the Navigator to the gas station to fill up last night so we don’t have to stop before we ever get started. We packed the Navigator last night and left room for Chubs’s crate in the back and Dani in the back seat. Chance called shotgun the night we concocted this plan. The playlists were loaded on our phones, snacks were readily accessible, and all we had to do was pile in the car and hit the road. I had the address programmed into my phone, Dani had printed directions (just in case), and Chance wanted us to wake her up when we got past St. Louis.
I went through each room unplugging everything and triple checked the locked windows. We bagged up all of the leftovers and took them to the soup kitchen last night, so the fridge was in good shape.
The next two hours will be torture.
I texted Chance:
you awake?
She responded immediately:
I’m awake but not up. Couldn’t sleep for shit.
I grinned and texted back:
Wanna leave early?
She said:
I’m hitting the shower now. I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.
I squealed, ran to Dani’s room and jumped on her bed. “Are you awake? Are you awake? Huh? Huh?”
She mumbled, “I’m awake, Lis.”
“Good! So is Chance. Let’s leave in thirty minutes.”
She threw back the covers. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, why not?”
“It’s not even six yet. If we leave now, we’re going to hit St. Louis traffic which was the whole point in leaving at eight.”
“Who cares? We have five months to get there. Come on! Get up! Let’s get this trip started.”
Dani sighed and stretched. “All right, I’m up.”
I bounced on the bed, “Yay! We’re going to Florida!”
She shook her head. “This is going to change the itinerary, though.”
“Oh, who cares, Dani? Live a little. We’re tossing out the Daytimers, remember? Flying by the seat of our pants. It’s going to be so much fun.”
She slid out of bed. “I assume Chance is on board with your last minute change of plans?” She grabbed her perfectly folded outfit for the day from her dresser.
“Yep. Already talked to her.”
“Okay, well let’s get ready to go.”
Thirty minutes later, we closed my house and set the alarm. I stood at the front door and imagined how it would feel coming back with an empty womb and empty arms. I shuddered and joined Dani in the Navigator. “Just think, Dani. No twenty-degree Missouri mornings for months.” I backed out of the garage and headed toward Chance’s apartment.
She hummed and grinned. “No scraping ice off the windshield at the office.”
“No tiptoeing across icy sidewalks.”
She pointed at me. “An excellent thing for a woman in your delicate condition.”
I laughed. “You sound so debutante sometimes, you know that?”
She shrugged and flipped through her phone. “Looks like the weather in the south is going to hold out for the trip. I programmed key cities on the route into my weather app and it looks clear through Atlanta.” She closed her phone. “Good. I was worried about driving through Tennessee. I hear they get some intense storms sometimes.”
I nudged her. “You worry too much.”
“It’s genetic.” She frowned when she heard my blinker clicking. “Where are you going now?”
“If you think I’m going to show up at Chance’s house before eight o’clock without Starbucks in my hand, you’re out of your mind.”
“Chicken.”
“Nope—smart.”
We pulled into Chance’s apartment complex, and my instructions were clear. I was to wait in the car while Dani went upstairs to help Chance bring down her things. So annoying. I guess a pregnant woman plus three flights of stairs multiplied by carrying a bag was too risky to our sweet, worrywart, Dani. God, I’m glad Chance is going with us. I sent Michelle and Katie a text telling them we’d decided to leave early and to keep their iPads handy. Michelle responded with a frownie face:
I was going to come see you off at eight.
I replied
: I’m too antsy. Can’t stand it anymore. Love you!
Dani returned with Chance closely behind. A gust of cold wind blew through the Navigator as the back hatch opened and Chance put Chubs’s kennel and the rest of her luggage in their designated places. I’m surprised Dani didn’t have them labeled.
Chance jumped in the front seat and slammed the door. “Good God I think I lost my nipples out there.” She shivered and rubbed her hands together.
I handed over her Starbucks. “Let me know when it’s safe to make eye contact.”
“I hope to be asleep in less than thirty minutes.”
Dani asked, “Then why should I sit in the back? Lis needs someone up front to help her stay alert.”
I said quickly, “I’m fine, Dani. Chance is going to be a good little navigator and stay awake. Right, Chance?” I knew Chance would get it.
She turned to look at Dani. “I got this, okay little mama? Just relax. We’re going to have fun.”
Dani sighed. “I’ll just be glad when we get to Florida. I’m worried this trip will be stressful on Alissa.”
Chance pointed at me. “You stressed?”
“Nope,” I said.
Chance pointed at Dani. “You stressed? I’m not stressed; she’s not stressed. Chubs, are you stressed, little buddy?” She shouted back to the trunk. “Yeah, okay he’s probably stressed, but he’s got good reason to be.” She slammed her hand on the dash. “Onward, Dasher and Dancer. Let’s get this party started.”
I grinned in spite of myself and thanked God for the umpteenth million time that Chance was on this trip, and we hadn’t even left her apartment complex yet. I was about to change that.
Two hours later, we slid through St. Louis without much traffic at all. It hadn’t dawned on any of us that we were leaving on Sunday. I glanced at Chance and teased, “Want me to take the next exit?” I wagged my eyebrows and winked.
She slapped my leg. “Nice. Keep on rolling, sister.”
“Just thought I’d ask.” Chance is making a big mistake with Tony. Or not with Tony, however you want to say it. I know she’s just trying to get through St. Louis, and once we’re on the other side, her proverbial ideology that there’s literally no turning back will come to pass. I sighed.
She mumbled, “Noted.”
“I can still take the next exit. We can drop by for a second, you can tell him you’re moving to Florida and just see what he does.”
“Stay the course, Lis.”
“You’re making a mistake, Chance.”
“Probably.”
“Well, I have to pee, anyway.” I flipped on my blinker and took the exit. “I’m ready for a refill, too. You need more coffee?” I met her blazing eyes and stifled the holy-shit-she’s-pissed grin that tried to surface.
“I swear if we see him, I’m tattooing ‘I suck ‘em good’ on your forehead in your sleep tonight.”
“Oh Chance, it’s St. Louis on a Sunday morning. What are the odds we’ll run into Tony at Starbucks?”
Chance
The baby must be sucking her intelligence to an all-time low. What the fuck kind of human takes an exit that leads to my ex-boyfriend’s apartment while I’m trying like hell to be the chicken getting to the other side of this blasted city? It’s straight-up horse shit,— that’s what it is. And, I’ve been holding my pee for thirty-six minutes pretending I don’t have to go so we can
get
to the other side. Totally insensitive.
Dani stirred in the back seat. She asked through a yawn, “Are we stopping already?”
I answered, “Alissa-the-magnificent has to pee.”
She replied, “Oh, good. I need to go, too, and I need more coffee.”
Alissa was smart enough not to speak. She pulled into Starbucks, threw the Navigator in park, and headed into the building. I scoped the parking lot and didn’t see anything that resembled Tony’s car. Inside, I did a quick scan of the customers, found the coast clear, and decided I could like Alissa again. But I still hope she gets pee on her hand.
Maybe I’ll meet some handsome, young, tanned hottie with an extreme passion for life and an insatiable hunger for sex while I’m in Florida. Maybe he’ll be there with two of his buddies hiding out because one of them knocked up a successful attorney who’s on the manhunt for his balls. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Meeting someone intriguing would be the sure-fire way to get Tony off my mind—if I can get out of my own head long enough
to actually see
people in front of me. That’d be a nice change.
After we used the bathroom and replenished our beverages of choice, we headed to the parking lot in a better mood than when we left it. As Alissa was pulling out of the parking lot, Dani asked, “Okay, can I be the superfluous bitch, here and point out that between the three of us, we spent over fifteen dollars on drinks just then? That is outrageous.”
Alissa said, “I can’t even begin to imagine how much money Starbucks makes in a year. Chance, write that down. I want to look that up when we get to Florida.”
I looked at her. “Are you being serious?”
She chuckled, “Well, yeah I’m being serious. They sell coffee. For five dollars a cup.”
I mumbled, “Yeah, but it’s more than just coffee. It’s a little liquid heaven in your flavor of choice. It’s worth every dime to me.”
Dani said, “I don’t see how people can afford that, and you know there are people who go there every day. Every day! That’d be what . . . an average of three hundred dollars a month spent on coffee?”
I said, “I highly doubt most people go there every day, Dani. But yes, we can look it up when we get to Florida. Sure.” I made a note on my invisible note pad. “Research the Starbucks scam.”
Alissa said, “Okay, okay, maybe we’ve enlisted the help of the enemy, here, Dani. I’m on your side, though.”
Dani said, “Thank God for that.”
I had to laugh. “I find it so humorous that the two of you are concerned about a five dollar coffee—especially since we’ve all just left our careers, boarded up our houses, and are going to spend several months living in an oceanfront house. Wanna talk about extravagant spending, there, bitches?”
They were both silent until we all laughed. Alissa said, “Touché.”
I did a fist pump. “Now that’s worth writing down. I actually won an argument with Alissa
and
Dani at the same time. This trip is worth it already.”
It slipped out. Thankfully, Dani didn’t catch it, and Alissa let it go. “How about we drown out this gloating with a little trip music? Maestro, will you do the honors?” She handed me her phone. “You can pick the first playlist. The Breakup Mix might be your best option right now. Just sayin’” She winked at me and returned her eyes to the road.
And that’s how we spent three days in the car. If Alissa wasn’t pregnant, we could have made it in two, but Dani thought it would be best to spread it out over three days and we didn’t argue. By the time we made it to Naples, I was ready to grab Chubs, walk the full length of the Gulf of Mexico and be alone. Not that I don’t like my friends—I love them. They’re the sugar and creamer that make my life’s coffee worth drinking. But I need to be alone—I’m used to being alone, so constant chatter and being restricted to plans makes me want to randomly punch people. Yet another reason why Tony and me weren’t a good match.