by ANDREA SMITH
I aligned the scissors right above the snarled knot in my hair and snipped, watching it fall to the bathroom floor. That wasn’t so bad. I turned back to the mirror, taking the comb that now slid smoothly through that side of my head.
Oops…now this side of my head has a shorter chunk of hair.
Not a problem, I decided. I’ll just make a layer cut that same length on the other side of my head so we match. I studied the new length of hair on the left side of my head, positioning the scissors as closely on the right side of my head and snipped a chunk of the length off. There. I turned back to the mirror, combing both sides to see if they were now even.
Not quite. Just a little bit more off the left…
Twenty minutes later, Eli was outside the bathroom door, knocking loudly.
“Darce? You didn’t fall in did you?” he said, trying to make light of his concern that I may have gone into the bathroom for the sole purpose of slitting my wrists. I mean hell—what he must’ve thought seeing me in the state I was in when I got home.
“No worries,” I called out. “I’m about done here. I just had to trim some split ends. Gotta pee?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, acting as if he really wasn’t sure whether he had to pee or not.
I gave myself one last assessment in the mirror. I guess it wasn’t so bad. At least most of it was even now, though I couldn’t see the back. I’d ask Eli.
I quickly unlocked the bathroom door, throwing it open.
“Ta da,” I sang out, my hands fluffing up my damp locks, or what was left of them. “What do you think?” I asked, twirling around so he’d get the full effect.
Eli’s eyes widened as he studied my face and hair and then dropped his eyes immediately to the bathroom floor where multiple piles of various lengths of snipped clumps of dark brown hair lay, scattered everywhere.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, his face a mask of concern. “Do you have Monroe’s personal cell number?”
chapter 47
~ Easton ~
I repositioned myself once again on the soft, leather couch in the cabin of my jet. I’d just finished my second bourbon, my laptop perched on my lap as I attempted to finish this e-mail to Colin. I glanced at my watch. He and Ronnie should be landing at Reagan International right about now. He’d see my e-mail once the flight attendants allowed passengers to resume use of their electronic devices.
I re-read it for the third time:
Colin,
I’m in transit to New York now. I moved my travel plans up for personal reasons. You and I can talk on Monday. Darcy’s aware of the organizational change, but I’m not sure what you can expect from her come Monday. Call if issues arise. - E.
There. It was finished. I closed my laptop, powering it off, and downed the rest of my bourbon. I doubted if there was enough bourbon on the continent at the moment to dull the pain I felt over what I’d done. How I’d left. The fucking coward I’d been.
“Easton,” my mother said quietly as the limo sped off into the black night, putting distance between me and the corpse she’d just introduced to me as my father. “I want to tell you how this happened. You’ve a right to know.”
I looked over at her, seeing the misery in her eyes that meant she was in pain. Now she wanted to share that pain with me. Thirty-three years later.
“I’m listening, Mother.”
“Your fa—Constantine and I were lovers for more than thirty-five years. He was fifteen years older than me, and he was married. His wife, Isabella couldn’t give him children, yet he remained devoted to her whilst loving me on the side.”
“Don’t you mean whilst fucking you on the side, Mother?”
“Come now, Easton. Don’t be churlish. It was love. We loved each other, but I knew he’d never leave Isabella. French aristocracy still exists, despite what you believe. Constantine would never dishonour her that way. I realised that after I purposely got pregnant with you.” She stopped, pulling a lacy handkerchief from her handbag to wipe her tears. “Yes, I know. The oldest trick in the book. It didn’t matter to him, though. He was angry with me and said it was over. Done. He said that he never wanted to see me again.” Her voice was filled with emotion as she continued.
“I wasn’t quite finished with the games, though. I started hanging out at the various pubs and night spots in Swindon. There was an American Air Force base located close by. That’s where I met Trace Matthews. He was immediately attracted to me, so I used that as a weapon against Constantine, knowing it would get back to him.” She shrugged her shoulders, as if it was of little consequence. “I told Trace a month later I was pregnant with his child. He was in love with me. I knew his tour was nearly up with the military. I knew I could leave England and go to the States with him, as his wife. I knew it would drive Constantine crazy. And it did.”
“Mother,” I interrupted, “what’s the point of all this?”
“Please, let me finish, Easton,” she said, touching my arm for comfort. “I did a cruel thing to Trace Matthews. I didn’t love him at all, but I let him think that I did. After you were born, a month early, he knew. Still, he never said a word to me about it, because he loved me and he loved you as his son. The problem was, Constantine wanted me back. He’d located me and was keeping in contact. He knew he had a son. He wanted me to return to England with you so that we’d at least be close. So I did. I admitted everything to Trace Matthews, divorced him and returned to England. Once I did, I resumed the affair with Constantine. I thought for sure he’d want to visit you, but he didn’t. He was afraid word would get out that he had a bastard son and it would crush Isabella. So, all of those ‘vacations’ I took? They were nothing more than me sneaking off to be with him in secret, remote places. Isabella passed away five years ago,” she said in a loud whisper, dabbing her eyes.
“Finally,” she continued, “I thought we’d be together, that our love could be known to everyone. No more hiding.” She laughed derisively, shaking her head in disgust. “It seems when Isabella died, she took Constantine’s heart with her. He was a broken man, eaten up with guilt and regrets. I finally realised that for me, love was a toxic potion. I’d wasted all those years thinking I loved someone who loved me back. It was a cruel realisation. I left him to wallow in his self-pity and remorse. He contacted me several months ago, begging for me to visit him. That’s when he told me he was dying, and that he wanted to see you, to talk to you and beg your forgiveness.”
“And what about you, Mother?” I asked, focusing my attention on this woman who’d given birth to me, but not much else.
“I don’t understand,” she replied. “What are you asking?”
“I’m asking when you intend to ask for my forgiveness.”
I saw her bristle immediately, her eyes narrowing as she stared at me. “You had a good life, Easton. But don’t think for one minute that we aren’t cut from the same cloth, you and me. I’m telling you this as your mother so that you don’t waste the years I’ve wasted pining for something or someone that will never honestly love you back. It’s not within us to love or to be loved unconditionally. We poison ourselves and those around us with our black hearts, trust me.”
I powered up my laptop as the plane was taxiing down the runway of the private airstrip outside of the city. I pulled up the GPS file on Darcy and clicked on the ‘Night Moves’ link to get the coordinates. The codes populated the field immediately. She was at her apartment.
Good girl.
chapter 48
It was July 4th weekend. Eli and I’d decided to host a cook-out at our apartment for the hell of it. I’d invited Mom and Dad, Lindsey, Taz and Baby Harper. Eli had invited Cain. It would be a small gathering, as our outside patio couldn’t accommodate a much larger group.
It had been a little more than two weeks since Easton had dumped me. Eli had gotten me through that weekend. The following Monday, I’d reported to work with a spiffy new hairstyle that barely hit my shoulders, complete with bo
th high and low lights to give it that “chunky” look as Monroe had called it when he made a special Sunday house call to his favorite crazy-ass customer.
I won’t lie, it was a tad uncomfortable being around Colin again. I wasn’t sure how much he knew about Easton and me. But by Tuesday afternoon, the veil of discomfort had been blown away and we were back to our usual business banter and personal chatter.
Ronnie had met us for lunch on Wednesday. She’d been condo hunting and had a list of potentials for Colin to visit after work. I even found myself laughing a couple of times during our conversation, but the absence of Easton’s name on a daily basis at the office, and even at lunch with Ronnie spoke volumes. I even caught Ronnie looking at me with a sad expression a couple of times. After the whole thing that happened in Easton’s hotel room, I was sure I could handle pretty much anything, but someone’s pity…That one took a little strength and tenacity; I’m not going to lie.
Eli came through the patio door just then, interrupting my thoughts. “So, you planning on giving your parents the good news today?” he asked, giving me a wink. “Seems like an appropriate theme for Independence Day, yeah?”
I gave him ‘the look,’ popping a cherry tomato in my mouth from the salad I’d been making. “Funny you should mention it,” I replied, “I actually intend to give them the news while they’re here.”
“No,” he said, his eyes widening. “So, I guess you’re all about having some fireworks after all.”
“You know, I actually don’t have an issue telling them they’re about to be grandparents. I mean, my mom’s been practically trying to get me married for the purpose of seeing me drive a minivan full of kids—”
Eli let out a shrill gasp, “A minivan?” He popped the cap off a cold, bottled beer and immediately took a swig. “Dear God, where have I failed you?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. She’s like every mom, which means she’s basically genetically engineered for her Thanksgiving dinners to get bigger and bigger each year.” I shrugged, digging through the salad for another cherry tomato. “Telling them isn’t the deal. This isn’t the fifties, like you said, right?”
He was leaning on the sink next to me, now studying my massacred vegetables. “So, what is the big dealio?”
I blew out a breath. “Telling them who got me pregnant.”
“But you are going to tell them…” Eli replied, waiting for me to assure him.
I looked at him with a scrunched-up nose, not answering.
“What?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You know damn well they’re gonna ask.”
“And you know damn well I’ve no issue telling them it’s none of their business. In a very respectful manner, of course.”
Eli nodded, picking at his beer label.”Okay, I’ll buy that, but I mean…why?” He looked back over at me.
“Seriously? You have to ask?” I said, sprinkling grated cheese over my finished—and what I hoped would be delicious—project. “‘Hey, Daddy. So, I just wanted to run it by you that I’m currently preggo by the guy you hired to mentor me. P.S. I wouldn’t touch that fax machine for awhile, and can you pass me the ketchup?’ Yeah, how’d that sound? Because that’s pretty much how it would go. I kind of like my dad…and I’m really not ready to give him a coronary.”
Eli picked a sliced radish from the relish tray, popping it into his mouth. “That’s not the real reason, is it?”
“Of course it is,” I lied. “What else could it be?”
I heard his soft smirk in response. “You’re afraid of them finding out their little girl enjoys it rough and loud, aren’t you?”
“Bite me,” I replied, flipping him off. “Maybe I’ll tell them it’s you, Eli. Yeah…I’ll tell them I got you drunk one night and tried to convert you back over.”
He laughed loudly. “My girl’s back,” he said, grinning. “And in fightin’ form.”
We got through the cook-out with no major snafus. Harper kept everyone entertained with the cute little baby things she did. I managed to pull Lindsey aside, asking her to come upstairs so we could talk. I’d already told her about Easton leaving, extremely proud of the façade I’d put up that it was for the best. I was starting to believe that myself.
Once in my room, I closed the door. “You haven’t said anything to Taz about me being pregnant, have you?”
“Of course not,” she hissed, feigning insult. “I promised I wouldn’t, but sooner or later he’s going to figure it out, Darce. Like everyone else.”
“Well, yeah,” I agreed with her. “I totally planned on letting them know when we sent out the baby-shower invites.” I smiled at her.
I’m pretty sure I saw her left eye twitch at that comment.
“I know, I know,” I replied, testily. “I’m telling my parents this afternoon.”
She crossed her arms. “No shit?”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing: I’m not telling them Easton’s the father, for my own personal reasons. Don’t ask. I wanted to make sure you knew that in case my mom tries to grill you somewhere down the road, got it?”
She nodded, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“What?” I asked.
“Well, it’s just…who are you going to tell them is the father?”
“Darin,” I replied, clearly out-of-the-blue. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“Yes,” I said, my eyes brightening. “It’s fucking fantastic. I mean, come on? He’s in freakin’ Alaska, right?”
“Oh Darce…I mean, I don’t know about doing that…”
“Oh, hell,” I snapped. “It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone else that! Geesh, Linds. My parents don’t know anyone with the agency, I mean other than Taz, that is.”
“Speaking of Taz,” she replied, crossing her arms, “when is he allowed to find out?”
“I don’t know. Not yet.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, I wish you luck with your folks, but I’m betting they’re going to be tickled pink.”
“Or blue,” I said, giving her a wink.
Everyone had left. Mom was in the kitchen, helping me with the dishes. I guessed now was as good of a time as any.
“Mom,” I said, rinsing off a platter. “I’ve got some news to share with you and Daddy.”
She looked up from the stove she’d been wiping clean. “Good news, I hope,” she said with just a hint of trepidation.
“Well, I hope you think it’s good news. I’d rather tell you first, just in case it isn’t, though.”
She nodded, waiting for me to continue. I had her full attention now.
Oh God…
“I’m pregnant. The baby’s due in mid-January and the father’s in Alaska,” I blurted out quickly.
“Oh, Darcy,” she breathed, allowing the news to sink in fully. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the corners of her mouth turn upward in a smile. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m happy if you’re happy, darling. I’m not that old-fashioned, you know? A lot of young people don’t get married until after the baby arrives…well, look at Lindsey, for example. That worked out well for everyone.”
She came over, pulling me into her arms for a “mom” hug, patting my back. “My baby’s having a baby,” she sighed, sounding all choked up.
“Yeah, Mom, there’s just one more thing. Marriage isn’t going to happen, I’m afraid. Still okay with it?”
She put her hands on my arms and pulled back to look at me. “Can your father and I at least know who the father of our grandchild is?”
And. Here. We. Go…
“Darin,” I said, quickly, turning my face from her. “We uh, we hooked up again thinking we might reconcile, but realized it wasn’t gonna happen. My Depo shot had expired, that’s why that post-card from my gyno came to your house. Just one of those flukey things, ya know?”
Her forehead creased in a frown. “Darin does plan on taking financial responsi
bility, though, right?”
“Oh, sure,” I lied, nodding my head up and own. There was no way in hell I wanted to belabor the whole ‘Darin’ topic right now. “Listen, Mom, would you mind telling Daddy on the way home?”
She eyed me warily, shaking her head. “Why?”
“Because,” I little-girl whined, “I don’t want to know how mad or disappointed he’s going to be when he finds out.” I totally knew that I was taking the coward’s route. I get it, but do you a blame a girl for wanting to…I don’t know, live? And this talk with Mom was already kind of giving me heart palpitations, so I could only guess how the ol’ talk with Dad was going to go.
“I suppose,” she replied, giving me another hug. “I’m sure he’s going to be as thrilled as I am, so don’t stress. Have you been feeling well?”
“Umm hmm,” I nodded. “I feel better now that I’ve given you the news.”
“Well, you know there are plans you’ll have to make soon about after the baby arrives. I mean you don’t intend to stay here in this apartment do you?” She made a point to look over at the living room, probably noting that a baby wouldn’t really go well with Eli’s surround-sound stereo system.
“Mom,” I said, returning to the sink, “I can’t think about that right now. I’m taking this one day at a time.”
They’d only been gone for five minutes when I looked at Eli who was sitting on the sofa next to Cain. “Well, my ears are burning. Mom’s told Daddy,” I said.
“Oh, chill,” he laughed. “That baby will be spoiled rotten, just like you were. Your dad isn’t going to disown his ‘wittle’ girl,” he teased.
“I’m just hoping he doesn’t book a flight to Alaska to hunt down Darin and make him do the right thing.”
“Shut up! No. You. Didn’t!”
“Oh, but I did,” I giggled, heading upstairs. “Night, boys.”
chapter 49
