by Taryn Steele
Copyright © 2018 by Taryn Steele
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form of by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes, if done so constitutes a copyright violation.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblances is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and that are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these forms are used.
Cover designed by: Judi Perkins at Concierge Literary Designs and Photography
Photographer: CJC Photography
Cover Models: Gus Caleb Smyrnios and Rachael Baltes
Editor: Ansley Blackstock
Formatted by: Elaine York at Allusions Graphics, LLC
ISBN-13: 978-1719146722
ISBN-10: 1719146721
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
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This book is dedicated to me. That’s right. I am giving myself all the love. I have had this story in my head for a long time. I had dreams about it. I was going to let it go but I couldn’t so I wrote it out. Whether it’s a success or a big fail I am pretty damn proud of myself.
The brightness of lightning causes my eyes to flutter. The ear piercing sound of thunder stirs me awake. With one eye barely open I squint to see the alarm clock shining in bright red reading four o’clock in the morning. The springtime thunder cracks boisterously in the Florida sky above rattling the pictures on the walls in my bedroom.
Shit! Christopher! He must be scared, I think to myself as I jump out of bed. Running to his room I stop dead in my tracks in his doorway staring at his empty bed. I breathe a sigh of relief as I remember he’s at Olivia’s for a sleep over.
I tread back to my room and crawl into bed with the hopes that I can fall back asleep. I hate when Dominic is on call for work. I miss his warm body in bed with me. I toss and turn a dozen times while listening to the constant rumbling of the sky, but eventually sleep finds me.
My body clock tortures me and stirs me awake just shy of seven o’clock in the morning according to the clock on my nightstand. I swing my legs out of bed, raise my arms above my head for a much needed stretch. I know I’m only thirty years old but I swear first thing in the morning I feel as if I’m ninety. Every morning I need a solid three minutes of stretching before I walk out of my bedroom. Getting old sucks.
As I make my way out of my bedroom I grab my cell phone from my dark wood finished bureau conveniently perched against the wall to the left of my bedroom door. I can catch a glimpse of my hideous hair in the mirror fixed to the bureau and grab what I need on my way out. Dominic calls it my stockpile bureau because if I’m in a rush I pile everything on top of it instead of putting it away in its drawers. I call it convenience for a busy wife and mother.
Making my way in to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee I stop myself to send Dominic my daily good morning text message. We’ve done it every day since we moved here from Buffalo fourteen years ago when he started this new job with Florida State Utility Communications as a linesman. I walk away from my phone and go about my business because Dominic very rarely texts me back immediately. I know he’s busy.
Not used to having so much alone time I realize almost ninety minutes have gone by. I’ve made my bed, washed, dried, and folded three loads of laundry, had breakfast, and washed a sink full of dishes. I go in search of my cell phone. Still nothing from Dominic. Still not surprised. That storm last night was rough. I send Olivia a text to check on Christopher, and ask how the sleepover went even though I know it was fine. Christopher loves hanging out with Olivia’s nephew Kane. They are the same age and have so much in common.
Just as I hit send on the text to Olivia I hear squeaky brakes in the front of the house. Walking to towards the living room to peek through the curtains I see two Florida State Utility trucks in front of the house.
Dominic must have brought his good friend and co-worker Jay back to the house with him for some breakfast. It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened so I go about my business, yet wondering why he wouldn’t have texted me back that he’s on his way home.
Just as I’m about to start another batch of laundry the door bell rings. Why is Dominic ringing the door bell? Doesn’t he have his house key? Shaking my head in confusion I make my way to the front door, swinging it open ready to bust Dominic’s balls about forgetting his key but quickly stop when I don’t see him standing in front of me. Instead I see Jay and Ralph Marsden, the head boss of Florida State Utility. My eyes bounce back and forth to the two of them in confusion. Their faces are screaming devastation and suddenly I can feel my heart beating louder and louder in my chest. Something is wrong. Where is Dominic?
“Mrs. Jenkins, may we come inside?” Ralph quietly asks me.
My eyes are still bouncing at him and Jay but Jay won’t make look at me. His eyes are fixated at the ground. I don’t realize I am still holding on to the door knob until the sound of it rattling a bit from my shaky hand catches me off guard. I step back opening the door to them allowing them to come in still too nervous to let go of the door knob, as if it’s some sense of stability for me at the moment.
“Jay, what is going on? Where is Dominic?” I ask with a brittle voice.
“Mrs. Jenkins …”
“Stop calling me that, Ralph! We’ve known each other for over ten years. Now tell me what the fuck is going on, and where my husband is.”
“Abby there was an accident,” Jay finally chimes in.
“We need to take you to the hospital, Abby,” Ralph adds.
I stare blankly at both of them. I’m motionless. I feel a hand on mine. Jay is pulling my hand from the doorknob pulling me into the living room, sits me down on the sofa. I hear muffled sounds coming from him but I can’t comprehend any of it. I notice Jay walk away but I’m not sure for how long. All I notice is he comes back with a pair of my sneakers and starts putting them on my feet and tying them.
The next thing I remember is walking in the halls of the hospital with Jay and Ralph, and following staff into a room where I am met with a familiar face.
“I’m sorry, Abby. He went in to cardio pulmonary arrest from the electrical shock on the job. We did everything we could,” Dr. Donaldson reports.
I stare at the hospital bed before me. My husband lays there, pale and lifeless.
My shoulders shake.
My knees quiver.
Tears stream down my cheeks.
Jay catches my arm as my body fails me and I begin to drop.
How long has Dominic been here? I’ve worked here for years. These people are my friends. Why didn’t they call me? I should have been here. I could have been here to say goodbye.
Three days prior.
“Christoph
er, brush your teeth and get your shoes on! We’re going to be late,” I shout at the top of my lungs.
Where is that boy? I hear him running around giggling, I just don’t see him.
I grab my lunch and put it next to my purse on the entryway table, along with Christopher’s backpack. I swiftly shuffle my way to toward the bathroom to grab a hair tie for my long, dark locks. It’s a necessity for a busy, emergency room nurse. Christopher charges through the living room like a brahma bull almost mowing me down while I try to tie up my hair.
“I’m ready, Mom, let’s go! Mrs. Humphrey is waiting for us,” he notifies me.
“I know. I know, Chris. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Mrs. Humphrey is the best next door neighbor anyone could ask for. The day we moved in to our home she came right over with homemade blueberry muffins and fresh vegetables from her garden. She had just lost her husband of forty years a few months prior to our move and was happy to meet new people. When Christopher was born Mrs. Humphrey was over our house every day helping with cooking, cleaning, and pretty much anything Dominic and I needed. My parents flew down from Buffalo in July for my baby shower and wanted to wait to come back in December for Christmas instead of September for the birth. Dominic’s parents died in a car accident when he was twenty-one so Mrs. Humphrey being here has been a miracle.
With Dominic’s all over the place work schedule with Florida State Utility working as a repair linesman, along with my crazy schedule at the hospital Mrs. Humphrey has been there for us to help with Christopher when ever we need. It’s quite the blessing, our relationship. Mr. and Mrs. Humphrey never could have children of their own. They couldn’t afford adoption either, so having Christopher around has filled a void. Not having our parents to help our but having Mrs. Humphrey has helped us in our own way right back.
Over ten years of being next door neighbors we have moved passed the formalities of knocking on doors, so to speak. We knock once and announce our arrival as we walk in.
“Good morning, Mrs. Humphrey! We’re here,” Christopher shouts as we enter the through the kitchen door.
“I’m here, my dear. Good morning, Jenkins family.” Mrs. Humphrey chuckles as she welcomes us.
“Mrs. Humphrey, guess what I’m doing this weekend?” Christopher asks with enthusiasm.
“Hmm, watching a scary movie?”
“Nope. I’m having a sleep over with my friend Kane at his aunt Olivia’s house. My mom’s nurse friend. You know her.”
“Oh, wow! That sounds like lots of fun. I do know who Olivia is, silly man. I’ve been around for a while.”
I grin inwardly at the antics between Christopher and Mrs. Humphrey. Their relationship warms my heart. I say my goodbye, get in my car and make my way to work at the hospital. Once I pull in to the parking garage, I grab my bag and send my daily good morning text to Dominic.
Just as I think to myself how unusually quiet the nurses’ locker room is Olivia comes through the door singing New Rules by Dua Lips and shaking her hips as she strides over toward me.
“How are you still functioning here after dancing all night at the club?” I ask her.
“Well, on top of having a high metabolism, a two hour nap and lots of Red Bull to drink, I’m good to go.”
I’ve gone to the dance club with Olivia many times. She’s the hot blonde that everyone stares at. Olivia Pelletier is every man’s wet dream. She’s the perfect height of five feet seven inches with long, wavy blonde hair and sparkling emerald green eyes. If I was into girls I would want to grind up on her at the club too.
As we continue to get ready for our shift we briefly discuss the epic sleep over with Christopher and her nephew Kane. My beautiful green-eyed, golden haired little boy who hates to be called little because in his opinion now that he’s the whopping double digit ten years old he’s a young man. This is not the first sleep over Christopher and Kane have had. This is probably the fiftieth sleepover.
I first met Olivia’s nephew Kane when Olivia’s brother Jeremiah and his wife Tashia brought him in to the emergency room when he was just three years old and had an allergic reaction to a bee sting. While Kane was recovering we got to talking about our boys, their similarities and they’ve been best friends ever since. Jeremiah helps fill that missing brother void in my life.
As Olivia and I make our way out of the locker room we decide to stop in the employee kitchen for a cup of coffee before we check out the schedule for the day. Just as we’re about to walk in Dr. John Pierce, the hospital man-whore is exiting and greets us with his creepiest, “Good morning ladies.” As gorgeous as the six feet two inches tall man with daring dark eyes and messy dark hair to match, he’s a complete douchebag. Dr. Douchebag, as some of us nurses like to call him behind his back, has blatantly admitted that he became a gynecologist because vaginas are his passion. He has even gone as far as calling himself the vagina whisperer.
As if he can sense my disgust for the man from afar I get my good morning response from Dominic. Less than thirty minutes, that’s good timing for him for a response. I smile at my phone and put it back in to my pocket. Olivia and I head toward the nurses’s station where we are greeted daily with sweet old Nurse Alice. She doesn’t know we call her that but at the same time we don’t mean it in a disrespectful way. Alice Claussen is our senior nurse at the hospital. She has been here for thirty two years, and the sweetest woman you will find under this roof. Her short five foot one frame along with her short, curly white hair and baby blue eyes scream the name sweet old Nurse Alice.
“Hello, my dears,” Nurse Alice greets Olivia and myself as she hands us our charts for the day.
“Good morning, Alice,” we respond simultaneously.
“I baked some banana bread yesterday. It’s in the kitchen,” Alice tells us.
“You did? I didn’t see it but I will absolutely get my banana on once I go back for my second cup of coffee.” Olivia replies.
“You are going to get us all fat if you keep up with this baking Alice,” I tell her jokingly.
My day as an emergency room nurse is equally routine and completely different with each shift. When you clock in you have your routine of checking in at the nurses station and going over the charts of the patients in your zone, stock up supplies, run lab work, and clean up the rooms after the patients are discharged. The differences is always the case of the patients. We can have anything from a sprained ankle from a child falling on a playground to a drunk with alcohol poisoning to a man having a heart attack. So far my worst was the heartbroken girlfriend who found out her boyfriend the construction worker was cheating on him. She showed up at his job site, took the nail gun from the bed of his truck and shot him three times with nails in his penis. We saved his penis but it is never going to look the same. I wonder what ever happened to her. I feel bad for any man that cheats on her. Ouch!
My ten hour shift has finally come to end. All I truly want to do when I get home is drop my ass on the couch and not get up until tomorrow but that won’t happen. I’m a wife and a mother. I still have dinner to cook, laundry to fold and dishes to wash. Shit, dinner. What the hell am I going to make for dinner?
Once I arrive home and let myself in I find Dominic at the dining room table with Christopher eagerly looking at a magazine together. I hope it isn’t a Playboy or Maxim magazine I think to myself. I know he’s not a baby any more but he’s only ten, not sixteen. With Dominic, you never can tell what he will show that boy.
I greet my boys with hugs and kisses and tell them I decided to make tacos for dinner while I was driving home since it’s the only meal that I know I have all of the ingredients for in the house. They nod knowing if they don’t agree they are pretty much on their own then and they don’t cook.
While I’m preparing dinner Christopher shows me his newest SURF Magazine that came in the mail with his surfing idol Colson Baker on the cover. Christopher can’t stop talking about the article inside about his idol coming to Florida in a few months to judge a
surfing competition.
Why surfing? Anything but surfing.
When life gets busy, it’s easy to put the most imperative people on the back burner, because you know they’ll wait for you. Right? Wrong. Meaningful relationships should be at the head of your priority list. When we take things for granted, these things eventually get take away. Too often we don’t realize what we have until its gone.
Walking barefoot on Niguel Beach in California at sunset is usually one of my more peaceful moments, but that’s not the case for me today. It’s been one year since my family was taken from me. One year since some asshole got drunk off his ass in the middle of the fucking day, ran a red light and took my fiancée, Remi, and my unborn daughter from me. One year since that fucking dirt bag ruined my entire life.
I can’t help but think back to earlier today when my mom called. I knew she would call to check on me. Her words play over in my head, “Cole, you have to let people go. Everyone who’s in your life is meant to be in your journey, but not all of them are meant to stay till the end.”
I feel awful for yelling at her after she made that statement. I know she meant it in a healing way but I was feeling bitter and angry at the world at the time. I snapped and hung up on her. I should call her and apologize, or at least send a text. I always have to think twice before calling with the time difference between here and Florida.
My therapist, Dr. Duke Pine, one of the best in Orange County, reminds me at every appointment to rein in my emotions when it comes to my mother. He reminds me of her own trials and tribulations and she’s just attempting to comfort me as most mothers do.
I look at my cell phone to check the time, calculate the time difference in my head to see if she would be home or at work. I hate to bother her at work. She’s always so busy running her own floral shop with just her and one part timer.
God I miss Florida. I miss my mom. I miss my little brother, Nate. I can’t go back, not just yet. I’m not emotionally ready. I need to work on healing myself more over my loss. If I don’t and go back to Florida I just might kill a man. Not just any man, my own damn father.
