With Every Breath (22 page)

A couple waved and smiled as they passed by. They might have known who she was, or maybe they didn’t. That’s what people here did, they waved at passing cars, waved at people on the street, waved at perfect strangers sitting on a park bench. It wasn’t quaint or simple, but warm. When she lived here, she’d been so caught up in the idea of leaving that she hadn’t given the town a chance.

After snapping a few more pictures, she returned her camera to the bag and crossed the park to her rental car. She drove with no destination in mind. Mia and David needed space. They were both in avoidance mode, and when the two of them were in the same room, the tension was so heavy, it was suffocating. They needed time, and having a house guest underfoot wouldn’t make things easier for them. Jaden didn’t like David, but Mia loved him, and for that reason alone, she wanted their marriage to work. She wouldn’t wish what they were going through on anyone. Could his inability to get his wife pregnant be the reason he’d been pulling away from Mia? Jaden could only wonder. In three days she’d be on a plane back to Seattle, and though it was unlikely they’d have things worked out by then, she hoped they’d at least be in a better place than when she’d arrived.

Old familiar streets led her across town and over the railroad tracks. Jaden parked in the middle of the drive, and stared at the iron trailer park sign. Why had she come? She still hadn’t listened to Ellie’s voice message, but she hadn’t deleted it, either. Now, here she was, and she couldn’t seem to turn the car around.

She drove through the gate.

She’d hated King’s Court trailer park. Hated the pink flamingo in Mrs. Cluski’s rock garden. Hated the windmill in Mr. Musilek’s yard. She’d hated the railroad tracks she crossed every day to get to school, a reminder she’d been on the wrong side of them her entire life. After she left, she swore she’d never live this way again, the way she’d lived with Ellie.

Her childhood home was just as she remembered it, tan and white, with an empty tin roof carport alongside the trailer. Jaden pulled her key fob from inside her purse. Each time her mom changed the lock, she sent Jaden a new key. As if she expected Jaden to come home. Jaden hadn’t been home in eight years.

The door groaned open, and she stepped inside.

The trailer was old, far from perfect, but it was clean. Ellie had always been a neat freak—it was the one thing—the only thing— she could control. The quiet inside was deafening. Suffocating. Ellie was everywhere, from the fashion magazines she liked to flip through to the quilts made by Jaden’s grandmother whom she’d never met. Ellie hadn’t talked about her parents often, and never sober. All Jaden knew was that a pregnant, sixteen-year-old Ellie had been on her own. Ellie said her parents had kicked her out, but Jaden knew there was more to the story than that.

One of Ellie’s favorite games was to bend the truth to fit the reality she chose to live at the time. She told whatever she needed to whomever she needed in order to get what she wanted. A sob story here, a sob story there—and she’d never taken responsibility for any of her actions. That’s what an addict did. Lying was how she dealt with the skeletons in her closet and the life she’d chosen to live. It was easier for her to blame others—her parents, the man who got her pregnant, Jaden—because the truth was too hard to face.

She dropped into a chair at the table, and the chair squeaked beneath her. The only photographs in the trailer were of Jaden. Her gaze was locked onto a framed photograph of herself, accepting her diploma. She hadn’t known Ellie had it. There was a photograph of Jaden dressed for Junior Prom, with Ellie standing beside her. They were both smiling. It’d been one of the few times Ellie had promised to get sober. She had, for two weeks. In the photograph the two looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

She reached for the framed picture on the shelf beside the window. Ellie had gotten the image from Jaden’s blog. She remembered the post from a walking tour she’d taken through Scotland.

There were more pictures of Jaden in the trailer now than there ever had been when Jaden was a kid. Why? None of this made sense.

Jaden set the photograph back in its place. Towards the end, before their falling out, Ellie’s favorite way to hurt Jaden had been to say how much she wished she’d never gotten pregnant. The memory left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was too much. The walls felt as if they were closing in on her, and it was too much. She scrambled from the chair and rushed to the door. Jaden burst through, then slammed the door behind her. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the screen.

God, she hated this trailer.

“You’re Ellie’s girl.”

Jaden opened her eyes.

A little woman with gray hair twisted into a bun peered back at her. There was a handkerchief tied around her neck, as if she’d tugged it down from around her nose and mouth. Her beige pants had grass stains on the knees and there was a spade in her hand.

“I am.” Jaden turned to lock the trailer.

“I’m Glenda.”

“Jaden.” She yanked the key from the door lock and turned to Glenda with a forced smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, dear. It’s nice you’ve come home, but your mother’s not here.” She tugged her gardening gloves off and smacked them together to knock dirt off.

“I know.” Jaden studied the green outdoor carpet, worn thin, covering the porch steps.

“She talks about you all the time.”

Jaden jerked her gaze up. “She does?”

Glenda smiled, and tucked the gloves under her arm. “She’s so proud of you.”

“Really?” Jaden hated the skepticism in her voice, but it was so unbelievable. Too unbelievable.

“Oh yes. We watched your show together every Thursday night. All those places you’ve been—how wonderful! She just can’t get over that her little Jaden is now a star.”

Despite Jaden’s disbelief, she smiled at the woman’s excitement. “You watched the first season?”

She loosed the handkerchief around her neck. “Every single one, dear.”

“And my mom watched them with you?” The idea of Ellie drinking and whatever else in front of this little old lady was infuriating.

“Of course! We watched right from her living room. Your mother made me dinner every Thursday. Now that your show is over, we watch that singing show instead. The one with the judges.”

The image this woman painted of Ellie was so contradictory of the woman Jaden knew.

“It’s too bad I missed her,” Jaden said, returning the key to her purse. “Do you happen to know where Ellie is?”

“She’s at Valley Hope right now.”

“Of course she is.”

The woman’s forehead wrinkled. “Dear, your mother goes to Valley Hope every year to receive her sobriety cup. She’s been sober for two full years now.”

Jaden’s breath caught in her throat. Two years. It was so unbelievable she couldn't do anything but shake her head, and once she started, she couldn’t stop.

“Yes, two years. She spends the month at the center, talking with the patients, sharing her story. She’s worked so hard with her recovery.”

Being hit by a truck would have been easier to recover from. All the phone calls she’d ignored, the ones she’d deleted...

“Sober?”

“Would you like a glass of iced tea?” Her face was etched with concern.

“You know, I think I should get going now.” Jaden pasted on a smile that hurt her cheeks. “It was really nice to meet you, Glenda.”

“Will you come back?”

Jaden didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to lie to this woman, but telling her the truth would only concern her more. “Yes, I’ll come back. Sometime.”

She walked as fast as she could without running to her vehicle. Sober. It made no sense. When? And why? Two years? Why hadn’t she been able to do this when Jaden needed her? Growing up, all she’d wanted was for Ellie to be sober. All those years.

Her eyes blurred with tears. She left the trailer park and drove aimlessly along the side streets. Two years. Those two words kept rolling around her head. Makes no sense. None. She didn’t understand, couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Two years.

Her brain was numb, her thoughts muddled. She needed to get as far away from the trailer park as she could.

Cole woke from a nap on the couch to the doorbell ringing. He stirred and wiped the sleep from his eyes. The TV was still on low; he’d fallen asleep watching the news. Micky was upstairs in his room napping.

He shuffled to the door, swung it open, and found Jaden standing there, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen.

“Jaden?”

The smile on her lips wavered. “Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He stepped out onto the porch in low slung basketball shorts and barefoot. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just...” She glanced around at the neighborhood, darkening with the setting sun, as if she struggled with the words she wanted to say. Finally, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure why I’m here.”

Cole’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hey, come here.” He wrapped his arms around her, and she broke into tears, crying softly against his chest. He stroked her hair. “Ssshhh, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

There was only one thing he knew that could hurt her this way, and it was her mom. He’d never seen her cry, though, and the pain wracking her body against his made his heart hurt. He swept her up into his arms and carried her across the threshold.

“It’s okay, honey. I won’t let you go.” He didn’t know if she heard him, but he meant every word, and it took him by surprise. How could he ever let her go again?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The sun hung low on the horizon, an orange glow behind the trees across the lake. Jaden wiggled to get comfortable on the blanket, her head nestled on Cole’s lap. She gazed up at him. His chest rose and fell in gentle breaths while he traced lazy, feather light circles on her bared abdomen. The remains of their picnic were stuffed in a basket near Jaden’s bare feet.

“Hey.”

He took his gaze from the lake to smile down at her in the lazy way she loved. “Hey, back.”

She reached up to tug on his ear lobe. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped tracing circles on her skin and covered her belly button with his palm. “I was thinking about you.”

“Oh?” she asked, drawing out the word.

“Oh.”

She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, she narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “And?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his laugh. “And, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” His free hand found her hair. Twisting a lock between his fingers, he said, “I’m glad you came back.”

“I’m glad I did, too.”

She was surprised—she meant it. Had she only been back just over a week? The time seemed impossible. When she boarded the plane for Nebraska, she had every intention of counting down the days. The moment she set eyes on Cole, she swore to keep her distance. Now, here she was, her head resting in his lap while she soaked up his warmth, and a smile she would never tire of. Life was unpredictable.

No, MY life is unpredictable.

There’d never been any constant in River Bend, not for Jaden. She’d learned to roll with the punches here. That fact kept her wary. She would leave soon, and the ache in her chest surprised her. She would miss the town, so different than she’d remembered it. Most of all, she would miss her friends. And Cole.

He ran his finger down her cheek to rest on her bottom lip, his gaze pensive. “I’m happy I got to see you again.”

I’m happy too.

The thought didn’t startle her, and the complacency in the emotion made her nerves tingle. Any constant in her life was of her own making. Any happiness she achieved was because she strived for it. The happiness here, right now, had snuck up on her. Whatever this was between them was more than she’d intended. There were only two choices now—enjoy the ride, or run.

She didn’t want to run. She wanted these moments with him, the laughter, his mouth on hers, the feel of his arms pulling her into his warmth. He made it so easy. Too easy. Not that it mattered. And I’m fine with that.

At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself for days.

“Hey,” Cole said and brushed his thumb across her lips. “Where’d you go?”