UnWritten

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Are you absolutely sure?” Raine asked.

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. So, do you want to start now? Or leave it until tomorrow?”

  She groaned and got up.

  “We only have two weeks. We should start now, but I’m probably going to need another shot.” They said you were supposed to write drunk and edit sober, but sometimes we liked to reverse that.

  We each took another shot and then printed out two copies of the edit letter, going over it together, line by line. I pulled out our giant board and started making notes on how we could fix what they wanted us to fix.

  It was an exhaustive process and by the time we got through four pages of the letter and I’d filled the board with notes, it was past dinnertime.

  “I think we should call it a night. I seriously need to eat something,” I said, patting my groaning stomach.

  “Ditto. At least we have a start. We should get up early tomorrow and get the rest of it finished and then we can start writing. Shit, this is going to be so much work. Is it bad for me to hate writing right now?”

  “Nope. I hate it right now too,” I said, capping my marker and dropping it on the coffee table.

  Raine called for takeout and I realized I’d left my phone in my purse and went to fish it out and see if I had any missed messages. Yup. There were a few.

  “Shit. I forgot about my phone.” I scrolled through. The messages were from Madeline and Declan. I read Madeline’s first. Just business stuff about the library. Then I got to Declan’s.

  I have something to ask you.

  My heart fluttered. He’d sent the message just a half-hour ago.

  Go ahead. I’ll probably say yes.

  I waited for his response.

  Even without knowing what it is? You’re brave.

  That made me laugh.

  No, I just have a hard time saying no to you.

  God, wasn’t that the truth?

  I would love to see you, but I feel like I’m neglecting Drake. Would you like to come over and have dinner with us tomorrow?

  Fuck and yes were the only answers to that question.

  I would love to.

  I responded before I realized that Raine and I should be writing. Shit. I was already going to miss time on Sunday for the funeral.

  “How much do you love me?” I asked Raine as she put the scotch away and rinsed out the shot glasses.

  “Depends. What do you want?”

  “I really shouldn’t ask. It’s not fair to you,” I said, backpedalling.

  She propped on of her hands on her hip. “Shut up and ask.”

  “Declan wants to have dinner with me tomorrow at his house with Drake. It’s the first time I’ve been invited over and I really want to go.” I wasn’t going to pout and jump up and down to show her just how much, but I wanted to.

  “Go for it. I’m not going to keep you from your hot British man meat.”

  “That’s really gross in the context of what we’re going to be doing,” I said, making a face.

  “Seriously, though, I’m not going to stop you from having a good time. What kind of horrible friend would I be? Then you’d just be mopey and a pain to deal with. So go. One of us deserves to have a nice night with a cute boy.” I gave her a hug.

  “You are the bestest of best friends,” I said.

  “I know.” I rolled my eyes and she grinned at me. “Food should be here soon.”

  Despite saying we were going to take a break, we continued to talk about ways we could change the story to fix it. There was another saying that writers were either writing, or thinking about writing. We were always thinking and talking about it. Like a faucet you couldn’t turn off. The thoughts flowed constantly.

  By the time we went to bed, we’d solved a few more of our problems and I’d written more on the board. But we still had a mountain of work ahead. It made my wrists ache and my eyes burn just thinking about it.

  “You didn’t have to bring me a book this time,” I said when Declan showed up with The Scarlet Pimpernel.

  “I like doing it. And you seem to like it as well.” He gave me a long slow kiss and didn’t pull back until Raine cleared her throat. She had her writer’s attire on and Declan blinked for a second at it.

  “We’ve been working all day. I looked just like that about an hour ago,” I said as Raine struck a model pose.

  “This is what a working writer looks like. Well, usually without the pants,” she said, pointing to the yoga pants she had on. “We’re not big fans of pants.”

  “Neither am I. They always seem to get in the way,” Declan said with a serious face.

  “You know what I’m talking about,” Raine said, giving him an approving nod before going back to her laptop.

  “Ready?” I said and he escorted me out. I’d dressed somewhat casual, since we’d be staying in.

  “Is Drake okay with me joining you?” I asked.

  “I think that’s an understatement. The moment I told him you were joining us he got so excited I thought his little brain would burst. I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming.” I’d been around Drake plenty of times. I was sure I could handle it. Or try to.

  “Can I ask you something personal?” I said as we got in the car.

  “Go ahead.” I sensed his hesitance, but forged ahead.

  “Does Drake miss his mom?” It was a question I’d been wanting to ask since I found out Declan was raising him alone. As a person who’d been raised by two parents (and a few nannies here and there as well), I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have two parents and then have one just disappear from your life. Drake was still young, but he must feel the absence.

  “He talks about her sometimes. He used to ask to see her and threw tantrums when she didn’t appear. I hated explaining that she was away and I didn’t know when he’d get to see her. That made me angrier than her leaving me. Her leaving her son.”

  “That’s so sad,” I said. Declan shook his head, as if trying to shake off the past.

  “I still think about her sometimes and what could have been. Not that I believe there is one perfect person for everyone, but still.”

  “I’m sorry for bringing it up. He seems like he’s adjusted well. You’ve done a really good job with him on your own. I know a lot of men who wouldn’t have been able to do it. You’re like Superdad.” He was.

  He chuckled. “Thank you for the compliment, but you’ve only seen me at my best. There have been plenty of times when I wished I could just head to the airport and get a one-way ticket back to England. I’d get a cottage by the sea and sit in my garden and read novels and drink tea the way it’s supposed to be made. But I’d miss the little bugger too much.” Clearly.

  “I love how much you love your son,” I said, putting my hand on top of his where he rested it on the shifter.

  “And I love that you love it.”

  Nope. I was not prepared for what I walked into when Declan opened the front door.

  “Hi, Blair!” Drake said before he rushed forward and slammed against my legs, throwing both arms around them. For a toddler, he was strong.

  “Hi, Drake. I missed you,” I said, leaning down and removing his hands from around my legs. “How are you?”

  He was dressed like his daddy, but they actually matched this time with slate gray pants, vests and dark purple ties. It made my heart pitter patter just looking at the pair of them.

  “I’m well,” he said, enunciating the last word. “Daddy taught me that. You don’t say good. You say well.” I bit back a laugh and nodded.

  “That is correct. Your daddy is very smart.” And sexy.

  “I made you something, come see!” He grabbed my hand and started dragging me through the house. We passed a scowling Ada. Yeah, I hadn’t missed her. Not one bit. God, I hoped she wasn’t staying for dinner.

  Drake presented me with a picture. It was one of those where you couldn’t tell immediately what it was supposed to be. I knew better t
han to ask.

  “That is so pretty, Drake. I love it.” Upon further inspection, the picture appeared to be of . . . me? And those might be bookshelves? I looked to Declan for help.

  “What a pretty picture of Blair at the library.” Score. I’d been right. “There you are and there’s Drake and there’s me,” he said, pointing out some of the blobs with eyes. Sure, it was no Renoir, but once he pointed everything out it made a lot more sense.

  “I am going to put this up on the fridge at my house,” I said, tucking the picture into my purse.

  “You will?” Drake’s eyes got huge at the prospect of his artwork being displayed.

  “Absolutely.” He started chattering about something else, and I leaned down to listen, but saw Declan talking to Ada in a low voice. Huh. It was probably nothing. I turned my attention back to Drake.

  “Do you like cheese?” This question had come out of nowhere.

  “I do. Do you like cheese?”

  “Not stinky cheese,” he said with a giggle, plugging his nose. “Daddy likes stinky cheese,” he sang, hopping around.

  “He just calls it stinky. It’s actually just brie,” Declan said as Drake danced around.

  “I’m sure,” I said. “Would you excuse me for a second? I just need to use the restroom.” He pointed me down the hall and I headed to the bathroom. My stupid period was due to arrive and I was pretty sure it just had. Perfect timing.

  I took care of myself, but I wasn’t prepared to walk out of the bathroom and straight into Ada.

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said. Whoa. Slow your roll, girlfriend. I wasn’t going to fight with this woman. If I didn’t rise to the bait, then there was nothing she could do.

  “I’m having dinner with Declan and Drake. That’s all.” I tried to push past her, but I guess she worked out, because she stopped me. I had a good fifteen or twenty pounds on her (maybe more), but she wasn’t letting me go without giving me some speech she’d probably practiced for a while.

  “No. I see what you’re doing. You think you can have him. Well. You can’t. He’s mine.” Oh what the fuck? Really? Was this actually happening?

  “Okay, well, I didn’t see a label on him,” I said, regretting it a second later.

  “You stay away from him,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  “Um, that’s kind of hard to do. And this is ridiculous. I have no beef with you, I’m not trying to steal your man or any of that bullshit. This isn’t a reality show. I’m done.” I tried to get by her again, but she stood in my way. I didn’t go off on people very often, but if this girl wasn’t careful, it was going to get ugly. I didn’t let people walk all over me.

  “He’s mine. You might have slept with him, but he slept with me first. And he loves me.” And that was the last straw.

  “Good luck with that, sweetheart,” I said with a sweet smile and finally walked around her and followed the sounds of Drake and Declan to the kitchen. Drake was standing on a chair and Declan was handing him pasta to toss in a big pot. They both had aprons on and everything.

  “Where have you been? I thought you’d gotten lost,” Declan said. I gave him a smile.

  “Nope. Just admiring the view.” He turned and I read the apron. “Should I do what the apron says?”

  Declan looked down and then grinned at me.

  “It says ‘Kiss the chef’ so I think you should follow directions.” I walked over and gave him a kiss. I was a little wary about doing it in front of Drake, so I kept it quick.

  He looked up and furrowed his little brow.

  “Me too!” He held his arms up and I read the identical words printed on his apron. I leaned down and he smacked a kiss on my lips and then giggled.

  “Little charmer,” Declan said, stroking his hair. “Now remember what we said about kissing?”

  “Always ask the person you want to kiss. And only if Daddy says okay,” he recited.

  “Good rules. How are those going to work out when he’s sixteen? Does he have to ask Daddy then?” I said to Declan.

  “Yes, if I have anything to say about it. Oh, Ada. I didn’t know you were still here,” Declan said, noticing Ada standing in the doorway.

  “I just lost one of my earrings, but I found it. Do you have everything you need?” This girl was cruising for a bruising, but letting her see that I was upset with her would only fuel her fire. I just looked down at the pot and tried to keep Drake’s little hands from reaching for anything that might burn him.

  “No, I think we’re set for tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave her a quick smile and then turned his attention back toward the dinner. Ada looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just glared at me and stomped out.

  “Daddy, I stir!” Drake said as Declan swirled the pasta around in the water so it wouldn’t stick. I thought about saying something about Ada, but I kept my mouth shut. If I said something about it, that meant it bothered me. And it didn’t. Declan had told me, point blank, that he and Ada had never done anything and I believed him. Either she was delusional, or she thought I’d believe her. Or both.

  She was full of shit. She had to be.

  When cooking with a three-year-old, things were bound to go wrong. Even with two of us watching him, Drake still managed to create chaos. His little hands were everywhere at once.

  “Why didn’t you just order in?” I asked as Declan stopped Drake from smearing spaghetti sauce all over his pants.

  “I considered it, but I thought a home-cooked meal would be nicer. Plus, Drake wanted to help. And by help, I mean gum up the works. Drake, stop that.” Drake grinned up at Declan. He was definitely pushing Daddy’s buttons. I wanted to laugh, but that would only have egged Drake on.

  By the time we sat down, the pasta was almost cold.

  “Daddy, cut for me,” Drake said, pointing at his pasta. Declan cut the spaghetti up and then handed the fork back to Drake.

  Somehow, I’d managed to keep my clothes sauce-free, but I didn’t think that was going to last. And it probably wouldn’t be Drake who would get sauce on me. No, I was capable of doing that all on my own.

  “This is nice. Even with the setbacks,” I said, using my spoon to swirl spaghetti onto my fork.

  “I got ice cream bars for dessert. Figured that wouldn’t require much preparation,” Declan said, helping Drake with his napkin.

  “So, Drake, tell me three things that you did today,” Declan said. I had the feeling they did this every night at the dinner table. I didn’t know parents actually did stuff like that. Mine never had.

  “I played in the sandbox, I eated my lunch and I peed in the potty.” I choked on my spaghetti when he said the third thing.

  Declan almost laughed as well, but he kept a straight face.

  “That’s very good, Drake. Thank you for sharing.”

  “Now you share, Daddy!” Declan said, flinging spaghetti on the floor.

  “I got it,” I said, grabbing a napkin and going to wipe it up.

  “Let’s see. I went to my classes and signed a new client and then I helped you make dinner for Blair.” Drake clapped.

  “Now you, Blair!” Drake seemed to be really into this. You’d think we were giving him candy.

  “Okay. I wrote with my friend Raine, I took a shower and I put eyeliner on.” The last thing had been the most difficult. I was experimenting with doing a subtle cat eye and it hadn’t been easy.

  “What’s eyeliner?” Drake said. I got up from my chair and crouched down so he could see my eyes.

  “Do you see the black lines near my eyelashes? That’s eyeliner. It’s like a crayon you use on your eyes to make them look pretty.” I blinked a few times and he stared at my eyes. He seemed perplexed.

  “Don’t Blair’s eyes look pretty?” Declan prompted.

  “Pretty eyes. I have pretty eyes?”

  “Oh, well. Mostly just girls put it on.”

  “Why?” Oh God, he’d gotten to the Why stage. Good times. Declan had lots of fun ah
ead for him.

  “Some boys put it on, but not until you’re grown up. Then we can talk about it,” Declan said. I wanted to give him a high five for not telling his son that makeup was just for girls and boys didn’t wear it.

  “Okay,” Drake said and went back to his spaghetti.

  “I’m trying not to be too gender-heavy with him,” Declan said. “But it’s a challenge when the toys are so gendered at the store.” Yeah, tell me about it. Books were just as bad. I had mothers tell me that their boys wouldn’t read “girl books” and to show them some books about trucks and firemen and other BS like that.

  Drake amused himself by singing and playing with his food and Declan and I actually got to talk.

  “The funeral is on Sunday. I wish I could bail and not go. I haven’t been to a funeral in years, but from what I remember, it wasn’t fun. The funeral isn’t really for the dead person. It’s for everyone else. And don’t even get me started on the fact that Gran wanted to be cremated and now everyone is throwing a fit about it.” My grandfather had also been cremated, but Gran’s family already had a plot reserved for her and now she wasn’t going to be using it. Dying was complicated.

  “I could come with you. Keep you company. Hold your hand.” Declan said and I looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

  “You want to be my date to Gran’s funeral? You want to meet my parents and my entire family. At a funeral.” Now he definitely had lost his mind.

  “I want to be there for you. If you need me there, I’ll be there.” Yes, I did need him there. Raine was going with me, but it would be nice to have at least one more person in my corner.

  “For real?” I asked.

  “Yes. For real.” Now that made me want to cry. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. This was what made me cry? God, I needed to sort out my priorities.

  “That would be . . . That would be wonderful. If you’re sure.” He nodded as Drake yelled that he’d finished his plate.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”