The Truth (10 page)

Setting the journal down on the bed, Lexie walked into the bathroom and splashed water on her tear stained face. Maggie had loved Ryan so much. Lexie understood even more that being asked to raise Ryan was an honor, a sacred trust, and a blessing. Maggie had given Lexie the most important, precious piece of herself, and she was going to make sure that Maggie was proud of the way she raised Ryan.

Visions of Grayson’s green eyes danced through her mind as she again wondered if he was Ryan’s father. Nothing made sense. She had to know the truth. Climbing back under the covers, she continued to read, skimming through the details of Maggie’s doctor appointments, and endless tiredness. She stopped again and carefully re-read an entry.

May 2

I can’t believe this has happened. The pain is like nothing I’ve experienced before. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I don’t want to get out of bed. I can tell you’re sensing my sadness, as you are tossing and turning inside of me, unable to rest. I can’t believe I have to tell you this. I can’t seem to get the words to come off my pen and onto the paper. My sweet baby, your father died.

I called his family to find him so I could tell him about you. Instead, I’m left with this hole in my heart in knowing you will never have the joy of knowing him. Please remember he was a hero. The strongest man I’ve ever known, filled with duty, and the passion to always fight for what he believed was right.

I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to find the perfect name for you, and today I know. If you are a girl, I’m going to call you Hunter Anne, after your father and your grandmother, if you’re a boy, Ryan Hunter, after your grandfather and your father. I’m so sorry that you won’t ever meet him, or that he will never meet you. I promise you one thing though; I will love you enough for all of us.

Tears stung Lexie’s eyes as the proof began to gather. She closed the journal, unable to read further through the panic rising inside her. Could this still be a crazy coincidence? She didn’t think so.

Lexie knew that Maggie’s parents had passed years ago, but if Maggie had contacted the father’s parents wouldn’t she have told them she was pregnant with his child? Wouldn’t they have wanted to know Ryan, to be a part of his life? If that was so, why did Maggie tell her that there was no one else to care for Ryan? And where were they now? So many things didn’t make sense. The main questions remained unanswered. If Grayson was the father, why did Maggie believe he was dead? And did Grayson know he had a son?

Lexie knew with every question answered, hundreds more would arise. Her mind was swirling, like a tornado across the ocean, picking up speed, and gathering more questions with each turn. Opening the journal again, she continued to read.

May 14

Our lease is almost up, and there isn’t any reason for us to stay here. I think you and I need a fresh start. I’m getting too big to teach dance at the studio for much longer and I want you and I settled in before you make your grand entrance. With the world at our fingertips, it wasn’t an easy decision to pick one place to plant our roots, but I’ve decided on California. It’s certainly a change from Washington, with its continuous rain, but I’m tired of being cold. There, we can play in the waves at the beach, and drive into San Francisco to walk on the wharf. I think this could be an amazing adventure for us. There is also a wonderful treatment facility there. My doctor tells me there is a much better chance they can help me than most other places. Sounds like the perfect choice, don’t you think? I know you can’t know this, but as I’m rubbing my stomach, you’re kicking me back. I’m taking this as a yes from you. Next weekend, we are packing up and driving out to start our first big adventure together.

Closing the journal, Lexie set it on the table and walked into her bedroom. She slipped on her pajamas and reached for her robe. Tears flooded her eyes when one of Grayson’s t-shirts slipped from the hook and fell to the floor. Picking it up, she lifted it to her nose, breathing in the familiar scent of him. Her heart lurched, the ache becoming unbearable. She had to know. Dropping the shirt back to the floor, she rushed from the room and picked up the journal again in search of answers.

It had been thirty-two hours and twenty-two minutes since he’d fallen asleep with Lexie in his arms. Thirty-two hours, twenty-two minutes, and forty-two seconds since he’d heard the sound of her voice. It was like he no longer fully existed without her. He’d thought he’d been in love before, but this was different, more. He wanted to hold her in his arms every night for the rest of his life. He wanted to read Dr. Seuss to Ryan and drive him to little league practice. He wanted it all. And he wanted it with Lexie.

After the pain he’d endured in his last relationship, he’d sworn he’d never fall in love again. To be honest, he’d never thought he was capable of feeling for anyone else. Then he’d met Lexie. One look in her amber eyes and something had shifted inside him.

He believed there was only one person in the world, a soul mate you could say, for everyone; he’d thought he’d lost his. Without any explanation, the woman he’d believed to be that person for him had walked away. The pain had seemed unbearable at times as he’d lie on his cot desperately trying to understand what had gone wrong. She’d never called the number he’d sent in his letters, never gave him the courtesy to explain. There were times he’d wondered if she’d moved, or maybe she didn’t want to send him a “Dear John” letter. He’d only been able to get a call out to her twice. Once he’d gotten her machine and begged her to change her mind, the second time he’d gotten a disconnected notice. It was clear. She’d walked away from him, and the life they’d planned together.

Sitting down on the couch, he quickly rose again, and began to pace the room. He felt wound as tight as a spring, but as out of control as a slinky down a set of stairs. Lexie had to talk to him. He refused to let her run away from him. He still believed in the soul mate scenario, but he’d learned that someone could be wrong in recognizing them. Or maybe he was wrong that there was only one. Lexie was meant to be with him. He’d known that almost immediately. Now he had to somehow convince her. If he’d been unable to get her off his mind then, it was impossible to do so now.

So why wouldn’t she talk to him? He had replayed the night over and over again in his mind, and each time was more confused than the time before. He was worried, and scared that he’d somehow lost her. He
had
to talk to her. Grabbing his helmet, he rushed from the room.

The wind blew warm across his body as he rounded the turn and accelerated his motorcycle down the highway along the shore. What was he going to do if she didn’t open the door? Maybe he’d call in the SWAT team with their battering ram and knock her door down. Maybe he would just curl up on her front step and wait for her to come out. She’d have to leave sometime.

Pulling up beside her car, he parked his bike, removed his helmet and marched up the stairs. His breathing was shallow, his stomach queasy, and his heart pounded in his ears. He wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans and knocked on her door.

He stepped back and waited. When she didn’t answer, he placed his ear to the door, listening for any noise from inside. Hearing nothing, he wondered if she could be asleep, it was after eleven. But then again, he didn’t care. If he had to wake her up and make her talk to him, he would. Raising his fist he knocked again, this time more of a pounding than a knock.

“Lexie, open the door!” he shouted.

When the door remained closed, he pounded again. Minutes later, he sighed and turned to leave, wondering if his worst fear was going to happen again.

• • •

The pounding at the door finally stopped as Lexie sat quietly in the dimly lit room. Pulling her feet onto the couch and her knee’s to her chest, she rested her forehead against them and let the tears flow.

Hesitant to read on, she’d put the journal down. Now it was staring back at her. Mocking her, daring her to finish what she’d started. The truth was she was scared to know. If Grayson was the father, what did that mean? Had he been so angry with Maggie leaving that he’d let her believe he was dead? Did he know she was sick and still turn his back on her? Could he have known she was carrying his child and choose to be absent from Ryan’s life? It didn’t seem like something he could do, but maybe she wasn’t seeing him clearly. Did she love him so much she’d become a blind fool?

There were very few circumstances she could conjure up that would make any of this forgivable. She reached up and rubbed her chest, as if slow clockwise circles could somehow ease the pain. She took a sip of water, trying to force the cool liquid past the tennis-ball-sized lump in her throat. Setting the glass back onto the table, she lifted the journal and opened it where she’d left off. Scanning through the pages, she skimmed over packing, hot dog cravings, the inability to sleep for more than two hours at a time, and the description of their new apartment. Gasping, Lexie reached over and turned the lamp up one click brighter and returned to the top of the page.

June 1

We’re finally here sweetheart. I can’t wait to show you our new home. We can’t see the ocean from our new apartment but we can smell it, and it’s only a short stroll to the beach. Being here brings up so many memories of my time with your father. We’d always talked about moving here and raising the family we’d have one day. How I wish he were here with us now. I wish he could see that the future we’d dreamt of was happening. That he would be here to greet you when you finally make your appearance, to hold you in his strong arms. I want to watch his face soften as he looks into your eyes, and see him pull you closer and keep you safe. I have a confession to make to you. I’ve done something I will regret forever, and that I need to apologize to you for. Selfishly, before I knew of you, I threw away the pictures of your father and me. At the time it was just too painful, and I knew I needed to make a complete break from him to keep him safe. Now, I know I’ve destroyed the only ties you had to him. Grayson Hunter was an amazing …

Lexie’s lungs burst out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her body began to shake, and the pain that had settled in her chest erupted and flowed through her entire body. The journal dropped to the floor as she curled up into the fetal position and sobbed.

Aimee Morrison stood beside the open door of the limousine, her hand resting on her jutted hip and scowled at Lexie.

“It’s my bachelorette party and my bridesmaid can’t bail on me. You’re going, you have to.”

Even as she tried to look disappointed, Aimee glowed. Lexie couldn’t remember seeing anyone as in love as Aimee was with Mark. The sunlight reflected off the diamond engagement ring, handed down from her mother, causing small patches of light to sparkle across the black limousine. She wore a silky red dress that left one shoulder bare, incredibly high heels, with an Amoré silver bag hanging from her shoulder. She looked sexy and sophisticated at the same time.

Lexie tilted her head and sighed in defeat. She knew she was being selfish, but hadn’t been able to snap out of her sadness. With her life unraveling, she was struggling to muster the strength to smile and laugh with her friends.

Marissa stuck her head out of the door, “Come on, Lexie, a couple of shots and some loud music and you’ll be fine.” She drew back into the limo and patted the seat beside her. “Let’s get this party started.”

Sliding in beside Marissa, she made room for the bride-to-be. Glasses of champagne were already being passed around, and Luther, the man of honor, was attempting to find the right music on the sound system.

As the limousine pulled out of the gates of the Sinclair Estate, Lexie tossed back her glass of champagne, and held it out for Luther to refill. She pushed her thoughts of Grayson, Maggie, and Ryan to the back of her mind. Tonight was about Aimee. The rest of the world would still be there in the morning.

Marissa leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Welcome back, I’ve missed you.”

Lexie leaned her head on Marissa’s shoulder for a moment. She knew Marissa had been worried about her, but she hadn’t pushed, or judged. She’d silently stood by and waited for the time Lexie was ready to take her next step.

“Turn it up, Luther!” Aimee yelled excitedly, and the entire group sang along to the song now blaring through the speakers.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Lexie was comfortably numb on multiple glasses of champagne. An extremely large bald man in a navy blue suit lifted the end of the red rope blocking the entrance, and stood back for them to enter. “Welcome back, Miss Aimee,” he smiled and bowed his head in greeting. “Nice to see you again, Miss Lexie,” his eyes scanned from the top of her head to the tips of red painted toes. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you, Frank. You’re looking large, strong and handsome tonight yourself.”

Taking a step, Lexie swayed, and bumped sideways into Luther. Taking her arm, Luther held her upright and led her into the dimly lit lounge. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you tipsy, Lexie.”

“I’m not tipsy,” Lexie insisted. “I’m just not used to wearing heels.”

Luther chuckled, but said nothing as he helped her onto the stool beside Aimee. The waitress arrived with three more bottles of champagne in a large ice bucket, and began to pour each of them a flute.

“Tequila, we all need shots of tequila,” Lexie stated.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Marissa shook her head, her pleading eyes circling the table in search of back up.

“We’re here to have a good time. Our Aimee is getting married in a few days. It’s our last big girl’s night before she’s an old married woman like you, Marissa.” Lexie laughed at her own joke, waving unsteadily on her stool.

“Tequila,” Luther seconded, and raised his champagne glass in the air. “To girl’s night!” The group laughed at Luther. He appeared to have no issues being the only man at a bachelorette party. “When’s the stripper getting here?”