“I just need to sleep. Please, just leave me alone.” Sooner or later, everyone always leaves.
“Let me in to give you the sandwich, and then I’ll go.”
“I’m tired, Aunt May.”
There’s a long silence from the other side, I then hear her footsteps retreating.
“Tabitha, you’ve been in your room for two days. Open the door, or I’ll call the boys over at Mulberry Point fire station, and have them break it down.”
The thing with Aunt May is this. She’s a patient woman, but when she serves up threats, they’re not threats. They’re promises. I know she will call them, and insist they come to break down the door. And with her influence, they’ll be here within the hour to do exactly that.
I push the covers off my body, and drag my feet over to the door to unlock it. Aunt May is standing with her hands on her hips, furious. She takes a small step back, and waves her hand in front of her face. “You stink, and so does your room.” I shrug as I stumble back to bed. She leaves the room, then comes back a few moments later, dragging a suitcase behind her. She tosses it on the bed, opens it, and starts packing my clothes.
“Great, so now you’re throwing me out,” I say. “See, everyone abandons me. Why should you be different?”
She swings around on the spot, and smacks me across the face. Her anger leaves me shocked. “I’m not throwing you out. I’m damn well saving you from yourself! Get your ass up, take a shower, and get ready.”
“Well, if you’re not throwing me out, what are you doing?”
“I’ve booked you on a flight to go back to your parents.”
“I thought you said you weren’t throwing me out.”
“I’m not. But you’re never going to get any better mentally if you don’t face this head-on. And like I’ve said before, it starts with your parents. Get your ass up. You need to be at the airport in an hour.”
“I could have driven, it’s not that far.”
Aunt May continues packing my bag. “You would’ve kept putting it off, and laying in this damn bed feeling sorry for yourself. Get up, Tabitha. Get the hell up, and fight for yourself. Because I can tell you, you’ve isolated yourself to the point that no one else is going to fight for you if you don’t fight for yourself.” Aunt May is beyond furious with me. “You’ve been acting like a world class jerk. Now, get up, or so help me God, I will give you a sponge bath. I don’t care how old you are. I’ll take you kicking and screaming to the airport, but you will get on that plane, and you will sort this out.”
I burst into tears. “Why are you doing this?” I ask as I cover my face.
“Because I love you so much I can’t keep watching you hurt yourself like this. You’re the most important person in the world to me, Tabby, and I refuse to stand by and see you hate yourself so much that you won’t let anyone love you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, ashamed at myself.
“Prove to me how sorry you are. Get up, march into that bathroom, and get yourself ready.”
“I’m scared, Aunt May,” I whisper.
She sits on the side of the bed, and wraps her arms around me. “Your home is always here. But your mind has to be healthy, or you’ll never truly understand what it means to have a family. And I’m your family.” She kisses me on the temple. “But go have a shower. You stink.”
I crack a small smile. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“Atta girl.” She stands from the bed, and closes the suitcase. “Time is ticking. You’d better hurry up.”
I get up, and head for the shower. I have to do this. It’s been festering for years, and I need to confront it, or I’ll never be able to heal. I can’t keep feeling defective. Because I’m not a bad person.
The butterflies in my stomach are almost enough for me to turn around, get on a plane, and return to Hope River. But I know I need to confront my parents. Walking through the airport, I feel myself walking as slowly as I can, trying to delay the inevitable.
Maybe Dad’s not home, out playing golf with one of his clients. Maybe Mom’s out being the fake little socialite she’s always been, hanging out with other fake little socialites. Ugh. Who am I kidding? Dad will be chained to his desk, working day and night making so much money he could live ten lifetimes and still be rich. And Mom, well, she’s likely chained to her cocktail glass, sipping it in the sun room while talking to one of her endless fake friends.
They’ll be home, and the knowledge of that absolutely terrifies me.
“Tabitha?” I hear someone call as I approach the desk for the rental car Aunt May booked. “Tabitha!”
I stop walking, looking around to see who belongs to the familiar voice calling me.
“Oh my God!” I mutter under my breath when I see her waddling toward me. “Yasmin?” I ask, my gaze instantly lowering to her very swollen belly.
“Tabitha, it’s been such a long time,” she says as if we’re old friends who lost touch. Nope. Remember, you burned me.
“Yes, it has.” My muscles tense, and my chest constricts. I don’t want to see or speak to her.
Suddenly, the smile on Yasmin’s face fades, and she awkwardly shuffles from one foot to the other. “Do you have time to grab a coffee?” she asks.
No, I don’t want this. But I need to heal, and she’s a big cog in the wheel of betrayals. “Sure,” I finally say, hoping our past can be rectified.
We both walk over to a small kiosk-like café that’s only about fifty feet beyond where we’re standing. There are a handful of tables surrounding the café, with only one available. “What would you like?” Yasmin offers.
“Just a bottle of water please.” I reach for my purse, but Yasmin is gone before I have a chance to give her any money. Within a few moments, she drags a chair out, places two waters on the table and sits.
“So, I’m glad I saw you,” she starts saying. “I wanted to call you so many times. And some of those times, I actually did call you, but you never answered.”
“I blocked your number,” I reply earnestly.
She nods, but her face screams sadness. “I deserved that.”
“Yeah, you did.” So many emotions are coursing through me. Anger, hurt, betrayal, even sorrow for the loss of someone I was fond of.
“You’re not making this easy for me, Tabitha.”
“Why should I?” I open the water and take a sip.
“I deserve that too.” She takes in a shaky breath. “So, you were right.”
“About Jeremy?” I ask.
She reaches out to take her water bottle, and I notice her trembling hand. “Yeah, about Jeremy. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
“Nope, you shouldn’t have.”
“And you were right. He became more demanding, holding sex over my head at every opportunity he could. It became intrusive,” she says. I don’t say anything, instead I screw my mouth shut and nod. “So, his wife found out.”
“Ouch. That couldn’t have been pleasant.”
“It wasn’t. She fired me when she found out.”
“Shouldn’t have slept with a married man, Yasmin.”
“I know.” She places her hand on her pregnant belly, and rubs. “He wants nothing to do with this little one.”
Oh shit. The baby is his. “Ah, well, that is certainly tricky. He obviously knows then?”
“Yep, and apparently, his wife knew what a whore he could be, so she made sure everything is in her name. The restaurants included. So, basically, I’m now without a job and pregnant. Oh, and I had to give up my apartment and move in with my parents.” Yasmin’s shoulders fall, and I can see how hopeless she’s feeling.
“You have your parents though. That’s amazing. And you can find a job once you have the baby. Having a child isn’t a life sentence, Yasmin. It doesn’t mean it won’t be hard though, you just have to be different.”
Yasmin’s lips quirk up into a semi-smile. “You look good. What are you doing with yourself? Why are you here?”
“Coming back to see
my parents, then heading home.”
“Are you married?” She looks at my hand for a ring.
“No, I’m not.” I’m too afraid to commit to anyone, because I remember the last time I was friends with someone she screwed me over.
“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
“None of the above.” I think of Charlie, and my pulse quickens when I think about his intense eyes, and beautiful, dark, tousled hair.
“Are you working? You were always the brightest chef I knew,” she beams proudly.
Who was screwed over by you. “I am, actually. I’m really enjoying it. It’s a small B&B, and the owner has given me free reign to do whatever I want. Mostly because she can’t cook.”
Yasmin chuckles. “It’s good to see you.” I nod, not reciprocating her sentiments. “I have to say, I’m sorry, Tabitha. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I threw away our friendship for a job that ended up screwing me over in more ways than one.” She points to her hard belly. “And Floyd left the same night you did. I was so angry at you for telling him for a long time, but you did the right thing. Floyd was a good man.”
“I know I did,” I say. “And I’d do it again.”
“It turns out, Jeremy did this often, but kept it incredibly quiet. And, I’m not the only one who’s having or had his baby. You remember Shannon?”
“The sous chef whose last day was the day I left?”
“Yeah, he tried it with her. He offered her head chef if she’d sleep with him. She told him to go fuck himself because she’s gay, and you know what he said to her?” I shake my head. “He told her it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done a lesbian couple.”
I exhale loudly while clenching my jaw. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wanna hear the ultimate in karma kicking my ass though?”
“Other than becoming pregnant by him?”
“Yep. His wife demoted me from sous chef after about a year. She said I wasn’t experienced enough. So, I went back to line chef, while still being blackmailed to screw him, then I ended up fired because she found out. And now, he told me that it’s not the first time someone he’s been fucking has ended up pregnant, and it won’t be the last.” Charlie would never treat me like that.
“That sounds like karma telling you to earn your promotions. Hopefully, next time, you’ll remember this.” How two years can change a person.
“Trust me, there won’t be a next time. I’ll just have this little one, and move on with my life.” I smile, and look down at her belly. I want to ask what she’s having, but we’re not there. “I’m sorry, Tabitha. Truly, I was a bitch.”
“You weren’t such a bitch. Someone offered you a shortcut to success, and you took it. But you did it the wrong way, not the right way.”
Yasmin reaches across the table for my hand, but slowly pulls it back when she sees me retract mine. “I’m sorry,” she says again. “Thank you for sitting with me, and allowing me to apologize face-to-face. I’m sure your parents are excited to have you home and I’m taking up their time.”
“They don’t even know I’m coming.” Yasmin’s brows arch. “But Yasmin, I’ll unblock you so you can call me once you have the baby. Maybe we can stay in touch.”
Her face lights up with happiness. “Really?” I nod. “Thank you.”
I stand first, and Yasmin struggles to get to her feet. Her big belly seems to be uncomfortable. I decide to be the bigger person, and go in for a quick hug. She grabs hold of me, and crushes me so tight it feels like she’s not going to let go.
But I end up stepping back, breaking the connection. That was way too much out of my comfort zone, but I pushed past it, and did it. “I’ll see you later,” I say as I pick my water bottle up, and step back further.
“Bye.” Yasmin grabs her water bottle, and waddles away.
Even though that was strained, it was good seeing Yasmin. I know she’ll be fine. I also know I need to forgive her.
Time to face my parents. Ugh, those butterflies are back with all their extended families fluttering around making me nauseous.
I pull up to the house, and sit looking at these walls of hell. I really don’t want to be here, but to defeat my demons, I need to face my Mom and Dad.
I get out of the rental car, and walk to the front door. Do I walk in, or knock? What do I do? In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never felt welcome, or even like a part of this family. Pffft, family. Yeah, right. As Mom said, all I was, was an heir. Nothing more.
I lift my hand, and ring the doorbell. Within a few seconds, a lady answers the door. Oh, a new maid. “Good afternoon,” she says as she looks at me.
“Um, I’m Tabitha,” I reply, not really sure what to say.
“Oh, Miss Tabitha. Please.” She smiles and steps aside to usher me in.
“Are my parents here?”
“Yes, yes. Mr. Van Reyes is in his office, and Mrs. Van Reyes is in the sun room.”
“Thank you,” I say as I walk toward Dad’s office. I called it, him chained to his desk, and her chained to her cocktail glass. Dad’s sitting at his desk with his head down, typing away on the computer. There are stacks of papers all over his big, beautiful, dark wooden desk. “Dad?”
He looks up, and instantly his eyes light up as he smiles. “Tabitha!” he nearly squeals. He gets up from his chair immediately and rushes over to embrace me in a massive hug. “I didn’t know you were coming home. How did you get here? Why didn’t you tell me, I would’ve sent one of the drivers to get you?”
“It was a last-minute decision. Aunt May actually rented a car for me from the airport.”
Dad’s arm is draped around my shoulder as he leads me over to one of his two visitor chairs and takes the opposite one. “Tell me, how long are you back home for?” He keeps saying home, and I want to tell him how this was never my home. Aunt May’s is my home.
“Just a few days, Dad. I was hoping it would be okay if I stay here.”
“Okay? Yes, it’s okay! You never need to ask. This is your home as much as it’s mine.” No, no it’s not. But now’s not the moment to discuss that. “So, how are you? What’s happening? Are you okay? Do you need money?”
“Dad, I stopped taking your money years ago.”
“What? But I make sure there’s money deposited in your account every month,” he says, now worried. He puts his reading glasses on, and moves around the desk to type on his computer. He turns the monitor so that I can see it. “Yes, look here. Every month I make sure there’s money in your account.”
“I don’t use it.”
“Are you mad? Why not?”
“I don’t need it.”
“But…” He takes his glasses off, and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why aren’t you using it, Tabitha? It’s there to make your life easy.”
“I live at Aunt May’s house, I have a job, and a reliable car. I don’t need anything else.”
“But this is why I work as hard as I do, to give you everything.”
Standing, I walk around and give Dad a kiss on the cheek. “Okay. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll use it.” I won’t, because I don’t need it. “Anyway, I’m only back for today and tomorrow, then I fly back out early the day after.”
“Such a short visit.” He sits upright in his chair. “Have you seen your mother yet?”
I’m dreading it. “No, not yet.” I walk toward the door of his office. “Maybe I can cook us something for dinner?”
“Um, we have a cook for that, Tabitha.”
Right. “Oh, right. Okay.” I smile, though I feel disappointed yet again. “I’m going to go find Mom.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ve got maybe another hour or two of work. But how about this? Instead of staying in for dinner, how about I take you and your mother to the country club for dinner?”
“Um, can we stay in, please?” There are a lot of things I need to get off my chest, and making a scene at the stupid country club isn’t where it should be done.
�
��Of course. Tomorrow night then.”
“Sure.” If they don’t kick me out of the house by then. I look at Dad, who’s already got his glasses back on, and is working on the computer. I walk through the expansive foyer, and out to the sunroom where Mom is usually lounging around, drinking.
I find Mom where I’ve always found her. She’s sprawled out on a sofa, with a cocktail glass in her hand, talking on the phone. Most likely to one of her fake friends. She looks up and sees me walk in, then lowers her gaze and quickly lifts it again. “Oh darling, I must go. I’ll call you in a little while,” she says.
“Hi Mom,” I say when she lowers the phone and places it on the coffee table where her cocktail glass is.
“Oh, you’re back.” Her lips pinch together.
My jaw clenches and instantly aches. “What a warm and excited greeting,” I say.
Mom rolls her eyes. “You’re looking old, Tabitha. Perhaps it’s time for a face-lift. A little nip and tuck.”
“I’m twenty-three. I don’t need a face lift.”
“Then maybe just a little bit of botox, to get rid of those horrible wrinkles on your forehead.”
What a way to make me feel like shit. “No, I don’t need botox either.”
Mom flicks her hand at me. “You’ll thank me later. I’ll book you in for tomorrow.”
“No, Mom, I don’t want any of that crap. It’s not for me.”
“Oh, you’re too good for some work on your face, are you?” She picks her cocktail glass up, and finishes it off in one mouthful.
“I’m going up to my room. I’ll see you at dinner.” I can’t stand being around her, she sucks the soul right out of me. No wonder I’m so screwed up, and afraid to show emotion to anyone. I forgot just how toxic living here with her was.
Heading up the grand staircase, I open the door to my room, and find it’s exactly the same. Not one single thing has changed. Even the blankets on my bed are the same. The room is pristine, preserved. How bizarre. I feel like I did when I was a kid, lonely and bored. Dad would thrust money into my hands and tell me to go to the mall with my friends. I didn’t have friends. I couldn’t make them because I was always afraid they were using me because of my surname and my family’s wealth. I’d learned that caution the hard way.
Healing Hearts: A friends with benefits, small town romance (Hope River Book 3) Page 11
