Imperfect Love Story

by Rachael Brownell

  The last guy I dated, only a few months ago, was a real winner. He had a good job, treated me with respected and wasn’t pressuring me to have sex with him. He claimed he wanted to wait until he was married. That making love was a sacred bond that should only be shared between two people who have committed themselves to one another.

  The night I came home and told Addy what he had said, she burst out laughing.

  She gave me two options for how things would turn out. Either he would admit to being homosexual after we got married or he would dump me when he found out that I had a child out of wedlock.

  I tried to protect Lola from strangers. Unless I was certain about them I never talked about her or introduced her to anyone. As far as she knew, the world only included Addy, Carmen, my parents and her. I was fine with that.

  The night I brought Kevin home to meet Lola, I saw the fear in his eyes. Addy was right, on both accounts. We ended up sitting on my couch talking most of the night. His parent’s beliefs were the ones he shared with me. They’d been pressuring him to find someone to marry and he was having a hard time finding a way to tell them he wasn’t interested in girls.

  The nice thing about Kevin is that we’ve remained friends since then. If he needs someone to show up to dinner with his parents, he calls, and I help him out. We play the happy couple and that allows him the freedom to look for someone who actually interests him. When we talked last week, he told me about the new guy he met. There was a level of excitement in his voice that I hadn’t heard before.

  I’m happy for him, but every time I look at him, I also see my own failure. I tried to move on, to move past Wyatt. Circumstances wouldn’t allow that to happen, and I can’t help but wonder if my head and heart were behind it in some way. My heart protecting me from getting hurt and my head guiding me to guys that I knew were a shitty match.

  “What are you thinking about over there?” Addy asks, nudging my leg with her hand.

  “Kevin.”

  “How’s he doing?” Addy asks. She’s just as fond of Kevin as I am.

  “I think he found someone.”

  “That’s great. Why does that appear to make you sad? I thought you wanted him to find someone.”

  “I do, and I’m happy for him, but it reminds me that I’m still looking.”

  A laugh escapes Addy as she’s about to take a sip of her wine, causing her to cough and sputter for a few minutes.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You. The fact that you think you’re still looking for someone. I hate to be the one to break it to you, Chloe, but you can look all you want. You’ll end up right back here, pining after the one that got away. That’s the thing, though, he hasn’t. He’s still in love with you, and all you have to do is tell him the truth, and things will work themselves out. You know that, but you’re too scared to face it.

  “So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to play the wildcard. No game plan. No expectations. Because I can guarantee that you two will connect at some point in time before you leave, and when you do, you have to tell him. Whether he wants to hear it or not. Tell him everything. Lola, your parents, leaving. All of it. Most importantly, tell him how you still feel. I guarantee he feels the same. The only rule is you can’t leave anything out because if you do, it changes the story.

  “Change the story and change the outcome. What was once perfect, then imperfect, becomes perfect again. I promise, you just have to listen to me this time.”

  “Your plan sucks,” I mumble under my breath.

  “It does, because it’s not a plan at all.”

  “I need to know—”

  “You don’t need to know anything, Chloe. Just let it happen. You said it yourself, as soon as Adam sees Lola, it’s over. Well, that’s in less than eighteen hours. You can’t do anything until then. Except drink away your sorrows and fears. So,” she continues, pouring me another glass of wine, emptying the bottle, “drink up my friend. Tomorrow is a new day, full of possibilities. You never know what might happen.”

  “You know I hate the unexpected, Addy.”

  “I know, but you’re just going to have to roll with the punches this time. Love can’t be scripted. It’s always the unknown variable. Things might turn out great, they might turn out shitty. You can’t control what happens or how he reacts. All you can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”

  Nodding, I down my entire glass of wine and head inside to grab another bottle from the cellar. If I can’t control what happens tomorrow, I’m going to at least control what happens tonight. Tonight, I drink and force myself to forget about what lies ahead.

  Why did Addy let me drink so much? My brain feels like it’s pounding against my skull. My mouth is dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth when I attempt to swallow.

  Cracking my eyes open one at a time, there’s light filtering in through my open curtains. I contemplate getting up and closing them, going back to sleep, and forgetting that today is an important day.

  None of that happens.

  The next thing I know, my body is bouncing off the bed and hitting the floor with a loud thud.

  “Mama, I’m sorry.”

  Lola. She loves waking me up by jumping on the bed. Normally, I hear her coming down the hall at the apartment. I prepare for the assault. Not today.

  Today I didn’t hear her sneak in.

  I didn’t feel her crawl up on the bed.

  I certainly didn’t prepare for her to be able to bounce me off it.

  Looking up and forcing a smile, I see two sets of eyes staring at me from the bed.

  No wonder I was propelled. She had a little help this morning in the form of Aunt Addy. Why doesn’t she look like shit? Why isn’t she still under the covers praying for the sun to go away?

  Oh yeah!

  I drank the second bottle of wine by myself. And a third if I remember correctly. Everything is a little blurry after I returned to the porch to find Addy texting, trying to hide the huge grin on her face.

  “Up and at em, chick. Today’s the day. You have exactly one hour to get yourself together and get in your car. That was the deal,” Addy sings as she snuggles with Lola on my bed.

  “What deal?” I ask, pushing myself off the floor, reaching for the bed when I start to wobble on my feet.

  Covering Lola’s ear, she says “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

  “I remember plenty,” I reply defensively.

  “Sure you do. Go take a shower and after breakfast, we’ll chat.”

  My stomach churns at the mention of food, but I roll my eyes at Addy and head to shower. Halfway through washing my hair, Addy’s words begin to make sense. My stomach rolls again and I rush out of the shower to expel the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

  Sitting on the floor naked, I rest my head in my hands and contemplate my escape. There’s no way of leaving without being noticed. Not without Lola.

  Walking into the dining room, I’m pleased to find that it’s only Addy waiting for me. She passes me a plate with dry toast on it, two aspirin, and a glass of water.

  Best. Friend. Ever.

  “So, judging by the look of contemplation on your face, you remember our deal from last night.”

  “Bits and pieces.”

  “That’s a start. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get in your car, drive to the bar, and talk to Wyatt. He needs to hear it from you before he hears it from Jones.”

  “I think—”

  “Nope. This was your idea. I promised not to let you back out. So go, get it over with. You’ll thank me later, I’m sure.”

  Over and over again, I remind myself that Addy’s advice has never failed me before as I make the drive into town. Parking in front of the bar, I take a deep breath before getting out of the car and making the short walk that will change everything.

  Pulling on the handle, I’m surprised when the door doesn’t budge.

  Closed.

/>   The sign is right in front of my face.

  What now? I can’t go back to my parents’ without an explanation. Saying the bar was closed won’t be good enough. I didn’t try hard enough.

  Digging around in my purse, I write Wyatt a note and leave him my phone number. The pen is poised to invite him to the party, but I know better. That will only cause more problems.

  Looking down at my watch, I have exactly two hours before the party starts, and I need to take care of this before then. The last thing I want is to ruin my mother’s birthday or to make a scene at her party in front of most of the town.

  Slipping the note under the door, I head back to my car, but not before looking over my shoulder. There was movement inside. The curtain is still swaying back and forth as if someone had just been peering out the window.

  On the one hand, I hope it was Wyatt. I hope he’s picked up the note. On the other hand, I pray he hasn’t seen it yet.

  Rushing to my car, I take off as quickly as possible, watching for the front door to be thrown open as I drive away. It doesn’t, but I don’t breathe a sigh of relief until I’m pulling in my parents’ driveway.

  16

  Lola Grace

  Fake it until you make it, right?

  That’s my plan today. My heart is in my throat and all I can think about it whether or not Wyatt got my note. Whether or not he’s read it. If he even cares about anything after all this time.

  It wasn’t a full confession.

  There’s no way I would be able to write the entire story down on the back of a gas station receipt. In fact, if he reads it, he may be even more confused than when I left.

  Wyatt,

  There’s so much that you don’t know about what happened, but I want to tell you everything. Please call me when you get this.

  Chloe

  He hasn’t called, and if he does now, there won’t be time to talk. Again, my parents are getting in the middle of my relationship with Wyatt, or our lack of relationship.

  Most of the guests are here. The party is in full swing. I’m making my rounds, greeting my parents’ friends. Playing the doting daughter, avoiding answering as many questions as possible. I’m so caught up in faking my happiness that I almost forget that Jones was invited.

  Almost.

  When I look to Addy for help escaping my current conversation, I find her and Jones staring at me. The look on his face is worrisome. He looks almost apologetic, but why? Why would he be sorry about anything?

  Once I’m finally able to excuse myself, I beeline it in their direction, avoiding eye contact with the other guests so I don’t get pulled aside.

  “Hey,” he says as I approach, his voice sounding cautious.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice rushed. Something is obviously wrong.

  “Why don’t you two find somewhere quiet to talk? I’ll cover for you,” Addy suggests.

  Nodding, I turn to lead Jones inside when I hear her shouting my name.

  “Mama!”

  Lola plows into my legs and wraps her arms around them.

  “What’s up sweet girl?” I ask, using my body to hopefully keep her hidden from Jones. For now, anyway. It sounds like I have bigger things to worry about.

  I hear his swift intake of breath from behind me and then he’s at my side, staring at Lola. When he looks up at me, the recognition in his eyes is apparent.

  “Who are you?” Lola asks.

  Bending down until he’s her height, Jones extends his hand to Lola and she shakes it. “My name is Adam. What’s your name pretty girl?”

  “Lola Grace Beech,” she says proudly. “I’m four years old.”

  Jones smiles. If there was any doubt in his mind, Lola washed it all away for him. My secret is out. I knew this moment was coming, but my heart wasn’t prepared for it. To see Lola talking to her uncle for the first time makes my heart ache. I knew it would hurt the first time Wyatt met her, but I didn’t really expect it to hurt for Jones.

  They both have lost time with her. Neither of them was around to watch her grown into the spunky princess that she is. That’s my fault. My parents’ fault. Yet, they’re the ones who will suffer because of it.

  “Well, Lola Grace Beech, your mommy and I were going to go inside and talk about a few things. Is it okay if you stay here and hang out with Addison?”

  “Aunt Addy, is that okay with you?” Lola asks, peeking around my legs to where Addy is standing.

  “Of course, sweetie. Come on, we’ll go find the dessert table.”

  “Ooh! Can I have a piece of cake now?” Lola’s excitement brings a smile to my face. Jones has lost his important status for the moment, her focus now solely on a piece of birthday cake.

  “I think you need to start talking,” Jones says, standing to his full height again. His eyes tell me a story I don’t want to hear.

  Closing my bedroom door behind me, Jones takes a seat on the edge of the bed and I slide up next to him. My hands are shaking and just as I’m about to pull them under my legs, Jones reaches out and takes hold of one, comforting me.

  “It’s not what you think,” I start.

  “I’m trying not to assume anything. Start from the beginning and we’ll go from there.” His voice is calm, lacking the judgmental tone I was expecting.

  “First, tell me what’s going on with you. There was something you needed to tell me.”

  “Wyatt got your note.”

  “And?” I ask when he doesn’t offer more. The anticipation is causing my heart to beat wildly in my chest.

  “He’s not ready to talk to you yet. At least, he wasn’t earlier. This may change things.”

  This changes everything. I always knew it would.

  Nodding in understanding, I start from the beginning and tell Jones every detail I think he needs to know. There are some things I want only Wyatt to know, things that should stay between us. If he ever lets me share our story with him.

  Finding out I was pregnant.

  My parents freaking out and taking me away.

  The elaborate story I’ve been forced to tell people.

  Why I couldn’t call at first.

  “So, what now?” he asks. His rigid posture contradicts the concern I hear in his voice and the sympathetic smile on his face. Jones is angry, but his anger isn’t directed at me.

  “That’s up to Wyatt.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  That’s a question I never thought Jones would ask. Not because he doesn’t have a right to know, but because I never thought anyone would question my love for Wyatt.

  “I’ve never stopped,” I say, my voice so soft I barely hear myself say the words.

  “Good. Things will be just fine, then,” he says reassuringly. “Once he pulls his head out of his ass, that is.”

  “I leave in a few days, Jones. I don’t think there’s enough time. I wasn’t planning on dropping this on him this weekend. My plan was to come back, avoid everyone, be here for the party and then go home. No one was supposed to know I was even here.”

  “Then why’d you show up at the bar the other night? You had to know someone would see you. That Wyatt would see you.”

  “He saw me?”

  “Of course he did, Chloe. He owns the bar now. Didn’t you know that?” Shaking my head, Jones lets out a sigh. “What do you know about Wyatt? Anything?”

  “My parents refused to talk about him. They know he’s Lola’s father, but beyond that, I’m not sure they’ve even met Wyatt.”

  Laughing softly, Jones replies “Oh, they’ve met. On more than one occasion. That’s not my story to tell, though, so here’s what we’re going to do. You go back down to the party and let me get in touch with him. I promise, by the end of the night, you’ll be able to talk to him.”

  “But—”

  “Chloe!” Marta hollers my name from the other side of the door.

  “Come in,” I call out. “Yes, Marta?”

  “Your mother would like you to come down a
nd give your speech now,” she says, relaying a message that my mother could have easily given me herself.

  “I’ll be right down. Thank you.”

  Leaving the door open behind her, I take that as a cue that my mother is impatiently waiting.

  “Don’t do anything until I get back,” I say to Jones, but the look on his face tells me he’s not willing to wait.

  “Things are going to be fine, Chloe. I promise.”

  His words are not as comforting as he thinks they are. I wish they were. I wish I could trust that he’s going to help me fix this. He knows Wyatt better than anyone. Wyatt trusts him. I would hate to be the reason any of that changes.

  “She’s adorable, Chloe,” Addy says from the chair next to my bed. She hasn’t left my side since Lola was born late last night. Her hair is a mess, and she looks like she’s slept less than I have.

  “Thanks. I think I’ll keep her,” I joke. Addy knows how my parents felt about my pregnancy and how they tried to get me to reconsider having and keeping the baby.

  They should be here soon. I called them this morning to let them know I had gone into labor and that she was born last night. They were upset I hadn’t called sooner. Of course they were. Why didn’t I stop everything I was doing to call my parents and let them know I was in labor?

  “What did you decide on naming her?”

  Looking down at the tiny pink bracelet on her wrist that says, “Baby Girl Warren,” I contemplate my options. The one time Wyatt and I talked about getting married and having kids, we picked out names. It felt silly at the time, but now it brings a smile to my face.

  “Lola,” I state, brushing my thumb over her tiny cheek as she sleeps.

  “I like it. Why do I get the feeling that you’ve known that longer than you care to share?”

  “Wyatt picked it out. A long time ago when we were fooling around, talking about our future. Long before I became pregnant.”

  “It suits her. I have a feeling she’s going to live up to her name too.”

  “In what way?” I ask, looking up to find Addy staring at her phone.