I turn to look at the yellow wall behind me. As soon as my eyes land on it, I gasp out loud and raise the hand not attached to Blake’s to cover my mouth. Because painted in the center of the wall, is a huge butterfly, just like the one in the park. Nycole – I would recognize her artwork anywhere.
My eyes move, catching hers, and in that moment, the day replays itself in my mind. The butterfly, giving her actual butterfly kisses on the cheek and her eyes filling with pure joy at the sight of it fluttering above her head.
Yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that she understands exactly what happened that day.
And between our glance, something in my heart just knows. It knows that Derek’s watching out, not only for me, but all of us.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel the air shift and a familiar sensation surrounds me. It’s indescribable, but I know that I’ve felt it before, and something about it eases my soul. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know I have experienced it, and it’s telling me something.
One look into Blake’s beautiful light green eyes and I know without a doubt in my mind what it’s saying.
It’s telling me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
And that I’m not going anywhere for a very, very long time.
“We have got to talk to your mother about these projectile spit up sessions, son,” I look down at the handsome little man cooing in my arms. Yeah, he looks just like me. I don’t care what Alex says.
I just swaddled him, like Alex taught me, but mine never stay tight like hers. He’s already managed to kick his legs out from underneath the blanket. “Stubborn, just like your mother.” He makes a little sound and then starts sucking on his tiny little hand.
Jacob. Our son. Jacob Derek Morgan. And he’s perfect. I thank God every day for that.
I walk to the kitchen and start warming a bottle. Once it’s at the perfect temperature, I head toward the living room, where I catch sight of Alex who just passed out on the couch after a grueling day with a colicky baby. Her beautiful brown hair splayed over the throw pillow, curled up on her side, mouth wide open, snoring. Minus the gaping mouth, and the drool, she looks absolutely beautiful. Peaceful.
Leaning over, while clutching Jacob close to my chest, I pull the blanket off the top of the couch to cover her with it. I run my knuckles over her soft cheek and watch her breathe for a couple of seconds. The sight of her curled up like that brings back memories of the worst moment in my life. When I saw her, lying there after the fall. There was nothing I could do for her. And the pain that she must have been experiencing. Jesus.
I sigh to myself. But she’s here now, and that’s all that matters. I’m so thankful she found the strength to come back to us. She has always been so strong.
“Strong, just like you,” I say to Jacob, taking a seat in the recliner and repositioning him in the crook of my elbow to give him his bottle. “Let me just tell you a little of what to expect around here, father to son.” I watch his eyes try to focus on me as we begin our lesson.
“Your mother. She’s stubborn and hot tempered, so try not to make her mad. But, she also forgives very easily. Keep that in mind when you do end up pissing her off. Oh, and it helps if you do something really cute too. That’s what Rylie does, and it works, trust me. I’ve tried it.”
Watching him drink his bottle, I decide to tell him the one thing that always makes me laugh about Alex. I smile to myself just thinking about it. “Also, your mom tends to smell me a lot. I’m not sure why, but she does. She smells you too, though, so don’t feel left out.”
Watching his hands opening and closing while he eats, I still can’t believe how tiny he is.
“Rylie. She is extremely high energy and very clever. She’ll most likely try to teach you to do bad things. If she giggles, it usually means that she’s doing something that’s not good. That’s your key, watch for it. You’ll probably be closest to her, so I’ll just tell you now…I’m watching you. I’m always watching both of you. So when you think you’re getting away with doing something bad, with or without Rylie, just know that I know. Got it?”
Alex stirs a little, so I lower my voice to a whisper.
“Kyndall and Nycole. Those are the older ones. Kyndall’s very sweet and will share her things with you so, when you want to play, go to her. She already loves you so much, so you have an in there – feel free to use it. Nycole, who also can’t get enough of you, doesn’t really play with toys. But, she’s very smart and will probably be the person you go to for advice, when you don’t want to ask your mom or me. Not that there should ever be a time when you don’t come to us, but just in case.”
Removing the bottle, I use the burp cloth to wipe his mouth. I’m not sure why, though, he seems to prefer my shirts.
Sitting him straight up on my lap, I tap his back lightly until lets out a little gurgle. I keep him there to make sure there’s nothing else coming up, and then lay him back down for the remainder of his meal and resume my lesson.
“Sunday Breakfast Dates. My favorite part of the week. We have them every Sunday, and you have to dress up, but not fancy if you don’t want to. You just have to dress in something. For example, last week Rylie came to breakfast dressed as the big red flying Angry Bird, her Halloween costume this year. Which is perfect for her…because she does tend to do a lot of damage. These things, games and stuff, you’ll learn as you get older. But don’t ask me to explain Minecraft, because I have no idea what’s going on in that game.”
He pushes away the bottle, but then reaches for it. I maneuver it around to see if he’s hungry. Once it’s back in his mouth, I continue.
“Falling asleep on the couch. Don’t do it. The girls and your mother will paint your toenails. And not just any color, they will paint them bright pink and take pictures to show your Uncle Trace. You can let them dress you up, but set your limits early. Otherwise, you’ll be covered with make-up and a lot of glitter and sequins. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But, if you don’t want them to take advantage of you, set your limits early.”
Now for the good stuff.
“Now, these are the most important of tonight’s lesson, so pay attention.”
His eyes widen and I laugh. Probably gas, but really good timing.
“Number one, your mother doesn’t ask for help much, but really appreciates when you do. So, don’t ask her, just do it. It gets you a lot of brownie points.
“Number two, always tell us how you feel. One thing I learned with your mom is to communicate with her, and it’s something that you should know too. Tell us how you feel. When you’re happy, sad, pissed, whatever, but don’t keep it bottled up. It never ends well, because eventually you’ll hit your boiling point.
“Number three, when you meet the girl of your dreams, never, ever let her go. I waited a very long time for mine, and believe me when I tell you, it was worth it.
“But the biggest thing is this: Everything happens for a reason. I really believe that. I didn’t marry your mom until later in life, but I have loved her for a very long time. Because I waited, I not only have her, but also Nycole, Kyndall, Rylie, and now you. So, when things don’t make sense to you, try not to waste time being upset about it. Stuff works out the way it’s supposed to. Some things just take longer than others.”
Lost in my lesson, I glance down and notice that Jacob is no longer eating. His eyes are closed, and he’s still sucking on the bottle, but instead of the milk going down his throat, it’s dribbling out of the side of his mouth. After wiping his face, I set the bottle on the floor, raise him back up and lay his head gently on my shoulder, his body against my chest, and rub his back. Rocking back and forth in the recliner, I watch my beautiful wife as she sleeps.
I inhale deeply and let out a long, content sigh.
“Yep, son. Everything works out eventually. You just have to have patience.”
Some call me a party girl. People see me as happy, full of
life, with absolutely no cares in the world. They see what I want them to see. But no one knows me… really knows me. No one sees the lonely little girl who resides in my soul. The little girl whose own mother couldn’t care less about her growing up. The little girl who was left alone, raising herself while her mother drowned herself daily in alcohol and depression. The little girl who lost her daddy when she was six, and who would give anything to have him back. No one sees me.
So here I am at the tender age of twenty-three, living my life as a perpetual party girl. Currently I’m stuck working in my brother’s bar—the bar he and Blake opened together. Trace came back to keep an eye on me after Mother started getting sick, and unfortunately stayed after she passed last year. Since I’m currently not talking to him, I’m pretty sure he put his little minion, Noah Reese, aka bar manager, on “Tatum duty”.
Noah Reese.
He’s hot, there’s no doubt about it. I can’t keep my eyes off of him, actually. With his brown spiky hair, light brown eyes offset by his impossibly dark lashes… he’s gorgeous. And when he comes into the bar with some perfect Barbie draping herself all over him, I get a tad upset. Those girls aren’t right for him. Not that I am. I’m not right for anyone. Sure, I have my boyfriend, but I’m not in love with him and actually, he’s kind of a jerk.
So if Noah wants to keep an eye on me, that’s fine. I definitely don’t mind. But I hope he doesn’t have any plans to save me from my life of self-destruction because in order to save me, he will have to see me…
And I’m never going to let that happen.
Perfect.
That’s me.
That’s the only acceptable way to be, according to my father. I loathe the man. There was never any love from him growing up. Just lecture after lecture about how anything less than perfect was intolerable. Perfect grades. Perfect manners. Perfect athlete. Perfect SAT scores. Perfect college. Now, I have to get into the perfect med school. I would like to tell him what a perfect asshole father he is, but I won’t. It takes too much energy to argue with him. I learned this lesson at a very young age. He wasn’t always this way, but after Mom died he changed and I was forced to change with him.
The only little bit of reprieve I get is working in Trace’s bar. No expectations there. In addition, I have recently acquired another job. Trace asked me to keep an eye on his little sister, Tatum.
That girl…
She’s outta control. Drunk and disorderly every goddamn night. Her and her loser boyfriend. He’s such a dick to her… it takes everything in me to not knock his ass out. I can’t even stand to be in the same room with them, but I told Trace I would watch out for her because there’s just something about her.
I can’t help it. She’s breathtaking… long black hair and light blue eyes with one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen. But, she’s also like a lost little girl who needs help.
I see the façade… the front she puts up for other people. And I recognize her pain, no matter how good she is at trying to cover it up. She’s clearly hiding something, I know it. So I watch her closely, never really saying much, hoping that one day she’ll let me in, but watching her lead her life down the dangerous path she’s on right now isn’t going to be easy.
I have a feeling I’m about to find myself swept away by the hurricane that is Tatum O’Connell.
First of all, a big, big thank you goes to my hubby, of course. Thank you so much for listening to me talk about these characters as though they really exist and for not looking at me like I’m crazy when I get super excited about them. Your support and confidence in my writing has given more strength that you will ever know. YOU are my Blake. Forever and always. Thank you. I love you so much.
My girls. My muses. Thank you. Your crazy antics provide me not only with a lot comic relief, but serve as great writing material for Nycole, Kyndall, and Rylie. As with the last book, I hope that you keep these memories close to your heart as I try to catalog the little things you do on a daily basis. I love you all so much and hope you are proud of your portrayal in Alex and Blake’s stories. Because I sure am.
Jena Eilers. Thanks, Rock!
Jennifer Roberts-Hall. Thank you so much for taking the time to edit my stories. I love that I have you and your wisdom in my corner. I love that you just get Alex. I love that your knowledge of her helps me so much to tell her story the way it needs to be told. And…I love you. Thank you so much for everything my friend.
Natasha Tomic. Ahh! I love you! Sooo much. You are such an amazing person and I hope you realize how special you truly are. Thank you for your support and advice, your pimpage, and your love for these characters. And, of course, thank you for your help with the most important scene in the book, among many other things related to this story. You helped me weave a truly incredible story that I am so proud of. Thank you!
Lisa Paul. My sista from another mista. Thank you for making me laugh…constantly. I love you! You, my dear, are an amazing writer and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes both of us. Thank you for your pure genius ideas while running through the storyline and beta read. Your additions made this story everything I hoped it would be. Smooches.
Amy Burt. Thank you, once again, for beta reading for me. You are so amazing! You have a great eye and you caught things that made me laugh when you pointed them out. I sincerely hope you understand that I will be giving you every single piece of work I produce in the future. You were my first reader ever and your love and support for the book gave me the courage to write another one. Thank you so much…for everything.
Jena Eilers. LOL! Gotcha! Well, friend, another one down. Thank you for everything. I know you can probably recite the story line for line by now, because I’m pretty sure you’ve read it enough to do so. Thank you for not only your support, but your advice as well. I know you will always be truthful, whether about writing storylines, making career decisions, questioning particular scenes to see if they make sense…everything. I absolutely could not have done this without you. Thank you. YOU are my rock. I love you!
Eric Nelson. Thank you for seeing the bigger picture. Thank you for taking the time to read this story early in development and for guiding me in a direction that I really feel captured what I was trying to get across to the readers. Your critiques and challenges to the story made this book what I wanted it to be. Thank you!
Sarah Hansen. For my beautiful cover. You out did yourself once again! It’s absolutely stunning. Thank you for creating the perfect image to showcase the rest of Alex and Blake’s story. You are an amazing artist who produces brilliant covers. Thank you!
Julie Titus. You are an amazing formatter. You make my books beautiful. I love everything you do with them; your visions couldn’t be more perfect for the way Alex and Blake’s stories should be presented. I love you and your sweet, sweet heart! Thank you so much for giving me something to be so proud to show off.
Book Bitches, Into the Night Reviews, Totally Booked, Natasha is a Book Junkie, Rock Stars of Romance, Flirty and Dirty Book Blog, Devoured Words, Whirlwind Books, Three Chicks and Their Books – Thank you. You were all such a meaningful part of my journey with Running on Empty and I wanted to say thank you to each of you for your love of Alex and Blake as well as their story. Your words of support and inspiration mean more to me than you ever possibly realize and have given me confidence when I found it lacking. Your belief in my writing is something I hold very dear to my heart, and I owe every one of you so much for that. Thank you.
My other girls. My crazy crew of lovely ladies who, without a doubt, make my face hurt from laughing so hard. To EVERYONE in ANGTFD! I love you! You ALL are amazing, strong, beautiful, and talented writers! Here’s to each one of our successes. Love you ladies!
And finally, to the readers. Thank you so much for taking a chance on this mother of three and her attempt to start a writing career in order to live her dream. I love each and every one of your posts, your feedback, your emails…every inte
raction with you reminds me of how lucky I am to have such a great group supporting me. Thank you for giving me courage to live my dream. It’s because of YOU that I’m able to continue to write and I hope to keep making you proud.
L.B. Simmons is a graduate of Texas A&M University and holds a degree in Biomedical Science. She has been a practicing Chemist for the last 11 years. She lives with her husband and three daughters in Texas and writes every chance she gets.
Learn more about L.B. Simmons and her books at:
www.facebook.com/lbsimmonsauthor – Facebook
www.lbsimmons.wordpress.com – Blog
www.twitter.com/lbsimmons33 – Twitter
[email protected] – Email
Other Titles by L. B. Simmons
Running on Empty
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Recovery Page 10
