The message goes from “delivered” to “read” in seconds.
But a reply never comes.
* * *
Chapter 45 -- Ben
3 months later
The saying is true that life goes on... even when you don’t want it to.
With the weather changing from winter to spring, it makes it feel like forever ago that I was a happy man thinking I had finally found my future. I’m not as angry as I was, but I won’t venture to say that I’m back to my normal self.
And I’ve come to terms that I probably won’t ever be.
After my visit with Aiden when he read me his version of the riot act, I really thought about what he said. And he was right. In so many ways.
It was his decision to get mixed up with the people he did. Amanda was doing her job. And I was an idiot for reacting the way I did.
She had texted me she wanted to talk. I should have messaged back right away, but for some reason, I didn’t. I let it sit for a few days as I gathered my courage.
Finally, I was ready to apologize. Grovel. Beg for her forgiveness while telling her that I was the biggest idiot on the planet. But then I sat across the street from her apartment building, only to see her enter it with a man I didn’t know as he had his hand on the small of her back, I knew I was too late.
Did she really message me to tell me she was moving on? Whatever. Good for her. I didn’t need her to tell me about it.
So now I was in a new mode of miserable. Before I could blame my feelings on her. Now I know they sit solely on my shoulders.
It fucking sucks.
And I have no one to talk to about this. I refuse to bring Tori into the situation, and even then, our relationship has become strained since the breakup. I haven’t seen Aiden because the last two times I was scheduled to visit, he called me to tell me not to. I tried to talk to Alex from work once and he told me to shut the fuck up after the fourth time he heard about the events leading up to the breakup.
So my life has become a pathetic cycle of work and unrestful sleep. I quit going to the gym. I haven’t been to chess club since Christmas. I barely leave my house. I have become a hermit, and I’m just fine with that.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
The knock on my front door startles me, because the only people who come by these days are food delivery services and my Friday night Chinese delivery. And it’s Thursday.
When I open the door, I’m not prepared for the people standing in front of me. I have to blink a few times to make sure that my depression hasn’t given way to hallucinations.
Standing on my front steps are my mom and dad, and standing behind them is Aiden.
I’m pretty sure I blink 10 times and each time I focus my eyes it’s the same thing. Aiden is standing at my front door with my parents.
“What in the hell?”
“Good to see you too little brother. But can we come in? Hell, the prison guards had more manners than you are showing right now.”
My parents laugh as they step inside, but I’m still too in shock to say anything.
“This is a nice place you got,” Aiden leans down and smells one of the candles that I picked up from the farmer’s market months ago. “Very floral. Is this Amanda’s?”
“What? No. It’s mine. Amanda isn’t…” My voice trails off because I do not want to talk about Amanda right now. “Never mind. What in the hell are you doing here? And… what are you two… I’m so confused.”
We take a seat around my dining table and I just look to each of their faces, clearly seeing that they know more than I do.
“Sweetie, I want to start by saying we didn’t keep this from you to upset you, we just…”
Mom trails off when tears threaten to break through and my dad finishes for her, taking her hand in his. “We didn’t want to get your hopes up if this didn’t work out.”
“What? What if what didn’t work out?” I look at Aiden, pleading for an explanation.
“A few months ago, your girlfriend and her partner came to see me in prison,” Aiden explains and I’m so shocked by this I don’t correct him about the use of girlfriend. “She came in to talk to me about the Flannerys.”
Damn. I didn’t realize that was the case she was working on. It was all over the news, considering it involved a known crime family.
“Anyway, she asked me if I could be of help to her. Apparently, like when I went away, no one was talking. And the Flannerys were going to walk away again without a scratch. She asked if there was anything I could help with. And then… then I thought of you.”
“Me? Why would you think of me?”
He laughs, and though I can’t look at her, I can hear the sobs coming from my mother. “All that shit you had said to me about not taking the second chance, not trying to right my wrongs. I guess you got to me. Amanda said that if I helped her… give her names, anything that they could get to help finally nail the Flannerys to a crime… then she’d talk to the Feds about getting me released. So… I did. It took a while. It all had to be done under cloak and dagger so the Flannerys didn’t know it was me who talked, but between my good behavior and my help…. well… here I am.”
I can’t believe it. … I can’t fucking believe it.
“You… you talked? You gave up names?”
“Yeah. I did. I know I grew up being told what happens to snitches, but I’ve realized that all of that is bullshit. The Flannerys don’t give a fuck about me and that I was loyal to them. They only care about themselves. So I figured it was about time that I looked out for myself. Because if I don’t, no one else will. And that’s what I did. And I have you… and Amanda… to thank for that.”
His words cause Mom to leap from her seat and she throws her arms around Aiden, squeezing him so hard I think his eyes might pop out. But he doesn’t say anything. He knows he has years to make up for.
When Mom finally lets go and wipes away the fresh set of tears, I stand up and walk to my brother. And for the first time since I don’t know how long, we shake hands, which then turns into a hug. I have seen him every month for two years, but we were never allowed contact. But now, in my dining room, I am hugging my brother. My brother who is a free man.
“So what happens now?” I ask.
“Well, part of the condition to my release is that I’m monitored for a year and I can’t leave the area, so Mom and Frank have agreed to let me live with them until I get back on my feet. Considering I’ve never had a real job, and I barely remember how to use an iPhone, it’s probably for the best.”
“That’s great man. I… I’m so proud of you.”
And I am. I’m so damn proud of him for doing this for himself… for me… for Mom. He got a second chance, and he took it.
“So what happens now?” Aiden shoots his question back at me.
“About what?”
“You.”
“Me? What do you mean what happens for me?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m out. I”m free. The woman you blamed for me being in jail is the one who made it possible for me to be here. If you were still pissed off about that, she made it right. So I’ll ask again… what happens now?”
Chapter 43
Amanda
Growing up in a single-parent household, there were things I didn’t realize until I was older that I missed out on in my childhood.
I never made anything for mom at school when Mother’s Day approached. Because Dad worked all the time, therefore eating at odd hours, I never knew what a family dinner was.
And now, as I sit at a city park watching families have outings with their children, I realize that I never had this. Just a simple day of enjoying the fresh air and each other at the park.
I look down and touch my growing belly, one I now can’t hide, and internally make a promise to the nugget that I’ll bring it here for playdates, picnics and anything else its heart desires.
“Even if you just want to sit here and read, we will do that. Or you
can kick a soccer ball. But I promise, we will come to the park.”
Like it knows I’m talking to it, I feel a slight kick against my stomach, which makes me smile. I might not know the gender of the baby I’m carrying, but I know its legs are strong. My nugget decides it wants to be uncooperative every time I go to the doctor to find out the gender, which frustrates me to no end. Tori and Scarlett are hoping for a girl, simply because they say we need a girl in this group of growing children. Secretly, I think it’s a boy. A boy with my blonde hair and Ben’s hazel eyes.
But I’m not going to latch on to one gender, so nugget it is. I talk to nugget a lot. One, because most of the time I don’t have anyone else to talk to. Don't get me wrong, my friends have been amazing. Scarlett answers my five million questions a day with patience, Kalum and Maverick have already bought the nugget its first coveralls for their garage and Annabelle is bursting at the seams to plan my baby shower. But most of the time, I’m alone. Just me and the nugget.
Which considering it’s been three months since I sent a text to its father asking to talk with no response, I’m guessing that alone we will be.
I sigh and stand up, something that’s getting a little harder each day, and begin walking back to my car, not wanting to break down in a public space. It seems every time I think of Ben, and the fact that he’s not here with me and nugget, I cry uncontrollably. The first time I did it was in a grocery store. I haven’t been back there since.
As I find the path back to the parking lot, a group of tables catches my eye. As I look over, it’s like the universe is just begging me to cry on the spot.
An outdoor chess tournament.
Luckily, there is a bench behind me to catch me as my legs give out from under me. I’m fighting a losing battle with the tears as I take in the sight of players strategically making moves across their boards.
What if nugget wants to learn chess? Ben never taught me, and honestly, I never wanted to learn. I’m sure I could, there’s probably a YouTube video I can watch, but Ben should pass his love for the game onto his child. But he won’t, because he wants nothing to do with us.
With me.
My tears are falling so fast I almost don’t see an elderly man sit next to me. I quickly wipe them away, embarrassed that yet again I can’t keep my emotions in check in public spaces.
“Oh don’t mind me young lady, I’ve cried plenty of times in public.”
His comment makes me laugh. “Really? You randomly cry at the sight of chess tournaments in a public park?”
“Why yes. All the time. I walk past these tables and games and see dumbass moves being played and it makes me sad. Kids these days don’t know how to play the game correctly.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never played. My… my… someone I knew once was a chess champion. Or at least he claimed to be. He would probably agree with you. He was kind of a chess snob.”
“He might agree with me, but even if he’s as good as you say he is, I’ve probably beaten him.”
His comment makes me laugh, but at the same time, I want to cry because this is another one of the many times I wish Ben was with me. I wished for him at every one of my doctor's appointments. I cried when he wasn’t there to feel nugget the first time it kicked me. And I wish he was here right now, because he would love this old man.
And honestly, after just a few minutes of sitting next to him, so do I. We sit in communicable silence, just watching the people, games and anything else that catches our eyes. Out of habit, I begin rubbing my hand over my growing belly.
“May I ask how far along you are?” my new friend asks.
“No, you’re fine. I’m about five months along.”
“And if I can intrude again, and please tell me to shut the hell up if I overstep, I notice you aren’t wearing a wedding ring. Please tell me your hands are swollen and that the father of your child is waiting at home to rub your feet.”
I should be offended, but instead, I let out a laugh. There is something about this man that I adore.
“You know, normally people don’t want to talk to me because they say I have a resting bitch face.”
“You? Nah. I’ve seen a resting, and active, bitch face. But don’t tell the nun at the high school I went to that. She’ll come back from the dead and beat me with a ruler.”
It’s official. I love this man.
“If you must know, you nosy body, no, the father isn’t in the picture. There is no ring. I… I thought he would want to be around, but… well, I guess you know what they say about assuming.”
My new elderly friend lets out a huff and slams his hands on his knees. “I swear to God, you kids these days and your cell phones and your Twitterbook, you don’t know how to damn communicate anymore. Just a few months ago I was talking to a young guy, about your age, who was bitching and complaining because he and his lady had different ideas about their future. He wanted a family, she didn’t. But do you think he actually talked to her about this? No. He just went on assuming stuff. I told him to get his head out of his ass. I hope he listened to me.”
The disagreement this man recounts sounds so much like the one Ben and I had all those months ago. But I’m sure he couldn’t be talking about Ben. There’s no way.
Right?
“Can I be the nosy one now?” The old man nods and I continue. “This guy you had an argument with? Was his name Ben?”
As soon as I drop this name, something clicks for my new friend as he looks down at my belly, at me, and repeats that sequence about three times.
“It was,” he says, now with a somber tone to his voice.
“Have you… have you seen him lately?”
He shakes his head. “No. He quit coming to our monthly games right after the holiday. I’m guessing by the line of your questioning, you haven’t seen him either?”
I shake my head, and another round of tears is threatening to spill over.
“Sweetheart, I don’t know what is going on with our mutual friend, but the man I know, who I have sat across a chessboard from many times, would never, I mean never, abandon you and that baby.”
“I’ve tried reaching out to him. He won’t return my messages.”
“Well that won’t do. Have you reached out to him on the Twitterbook? Maybe he checks that?”
I laugh, but don’t correct him. “He rarely checks it.”
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to gang up on him.”
“We?”
“Yup. The chess club is about to go pull that boy’s head out of his ass.”
Chapter 44
Ben
I honestly thought someone had died.
Guys from the chess club had never called me in the past. Even after missing four months of meetings and the annual St. Patrick’s Day tournament where we drank Irish whiskey and played until we dropped, none of them had bothered to reach out.
But then one day, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Message after message came in from I think every member of the club, all leaving me the same message:
Make things right with your girl.
I have no idea how they know about me and Amanda. I had only talked to Mr. Dunlap about her once, and I don’t believe I used her name. But, all the same, I took it as a sign to do something I had been putting off for weeks. Months really.
I needed to go see her. I needed to apologize, grovel and beg for her forgiveness. I was an idiot. I know that now. And if I forget, Aiden isn’t too far away to remind me. If she didn’t want anything to do with me, I could live with that. Somehow. If she had moved on with the guy I saw her with, then I’ll be happy if she’s happy.
But I know now more than ever that I have to try and make things right with her.
At least then it will make my chess club stop calling me every hour. And it will also get Tori to talk to me again. I miss that damn woman.
It takes a solid five-minute internal pep talk to lift my finger to ring her buzzer, and I pray she’s home. I know she, at leas
t used to, not work on Sundays. But before she can respond, a guy steps up next to me and uses a code to let himself inside. I take a look at him, and my stomach bottoms out, because it’s him. The man who Amanda is now with.
“You need in?” he asks, holding the door for me as he balances a grocery bag on his arm.
I shake my head. “No. I don’t think my friend is here. She didn’t answer. I’ll just try again some other time.”
“Wait, are you Ben? Are you here to see Amanda?” The fact that he knows my name kind of shocks me, and it makes me stop before I can walk away.
“Yeah. I’m Ben.”
The look that goes over his face is a mixture of relief and anger, and the two emotions keep going back and forth.
“Well, it’s about damn time you showed up. Follow me.”
Why in the hell is the man Amanda is now with taking me to her apartment? He obviously knows who I am. Was the anger because he knows I’m asking for another chance? And if so, why was there a sense of relief about him as well?
The next words out of his mouth only add to my confusion.
“She’ll probably be pissed at me that I’m bringing you up here, but I don’t fucking care. But let’s get this straight. I’m not a fan of you right now. But if you do the right thing by her, we will be cool. Got it?”
I nod because I don’t know what else to do. We step out of the elevator and he leads me to Amanda’s apartment. He doesn’t knock, instead just lets himself in, which leaves me standing in the doorway, unsure of what I should do.
“Oh thank God you’re back. I’ve been craving pickles and chips all day. I don’t know why, this one is new. You can set them on the table.”
Amanda comes around the corner of her hallway and stops on a dime when she sees me. Her hair is up in her weekend messy bun. She’s wearing no makeup, leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that's about three sizes too big for her.
She’s absolutely beautiful.
Say You're Mine Page 70
