February Waltz (Rhythm of the Heart Book 3)

by Jade, Scarlett

  Layla froze. “You haven't told anyone?”

  Zoe shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “When are you going to?” Layla palmed the paperback slowly.

  “I don't know,” Zoe admitted.

  “So the surprise thing, was it a lie?” Layla growled, her guard instantly going up.

  Zoe rubbed her forehead. “Sort of.”

  “So... you kind of used me?” Layla frowned.

  “Maybe a little, but I had no one else and I didn't want Calvin to know until it was over.” Zoe sighed.

  Layla chewed her bottom lip. “Think he'll be pissed?”

  “I don't know. Maybe he'll tell me I should have left well enough alone. That I didn't change enough of the facts...I did put a disclaimer, but...” Her voice trailed off and she sighed.

  Layla nodded. “I mean, that's true. You have opened up a whole big ass can of worms, but it's fiction. And if someone gets pissed off about it, oh well.”

  “I don't know how to tell him.”

  Layla whipped her cell phone out of her back pocket and punched numbers. “I'll do it.”

  “No!” Zoe yelled as she tried to crawl from between the covers. Layla hurried out of the room and Zoe groaned as she realized it was absolutely futile to chase after the girl. Her stomach twisted as she waited for his call. Damn it to hell. I should have just told him...

  Minutes later the phone rang and she picked it up. “Yes? If you're going to yell I'm just going to hang up.”

  Calvin chuckled. “Well, I wondered why you were so busy these past few weeks. Barely talking when I called, muttering about indents and page numbers. I mean I knew something was going on, but I had no idea it was something like this.”

  “You're not mad?”

  “Why would I be, Zoe? You wrote a book, and had the balls to publish it. Yeah, you kind of, I guess, went behind my back. I just wish you'd let me in enough so you could trust me. You'd think you'd know me by now, but I guess you don't. That's the only thing I'm upset about. I'm not mad you wrote the book, or because Layla says it's going to cause issues potentially. I am just sad you don't believe I will back you, anytime, anywhere,” he said gently.

  Zoe rubbed her eyes. “I just figured you'd say I shouldn't be writing about the town. But the story begged to be written. It started out about us and just something to keep me busy, but then it morphed into something much, much more.”

  “Layla says it's really great. I'm proud of you. Do I get a signed copy? First edition?”

  Zoe melted into the pillows and smiled. “Yeah,” she whispered, “you do.”

  “So tell me about the story.”

  Zoe grinned and launched into the tale of Poppy Monroe and her husband Jace. She talked until she grew hoarse, and Calvin held on until she finished. “So that's it,” she murmured.

  The line hung quiet for a moment and then Calvin spoke. “Wow. That's a hell of a story, Zoe.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “I set up a blog tour, and I'm just waiting for some reviews to come in. I haven't checked to see if I've made sales yet.”

  “I'm proud of you, Zoe. It's pretty incredible in six weeks you've written a book and grown a baby.”

  “We are almost to twenty-eight weeks, and it's really easy to write a book in less than six weeks when you have nothing to do but sit and stare at four walls.” She chewed at her thumb nail nervously.

  “Well I just downloaded it on my laptop. I'm going to read it tonight and let you know what I think.”

  “Calvin! You didn't have to buy it.” She mumbled, suddenly very nervous at the thought of him reading her book. Her palms broke out in a sweat and she tugged at the collar of her t-shirt.

  “Zoe, you just told me the whole story. I am not going to suddenly hate it. Let me read it. You go rest and bask in the glow of your accomplishment.” He paused for a moment and then said with a soft sigh, “I really am proud of you. Just trust me next time, all right?”

  Her chin dropped to her chest and her nose wrinkled as tears prickled at her lashes. “I am sorry.”

  “Just know I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere. You gotta trust me.”

  She swiped at the moisture leaking from between clenched lids. “Calvin,” she mumbled raggedly, her breath catching on the inhalation, “It’s so hard to do, especially after everything I've gone through.”

  His sigh was audible and a pregnant pause stretched on the line. “I know, Zoe,” he said finally. “I just keep hoping one day you'll let me in. I kind of feel like you're the princess locked in the tower and I'm the idiot prince racing the horse around the moat. The horse and I are tired, Zoe. Can't you let us in? I promise he's potty trained, and well, I'm pretty reliable.”

  Zoe chuckled. “I'm trying.”

  “That's all I ask, babe. Keep trying. Don't give up on us. Well, I gotta grab some dinner and I have a hot date with this future New York Times bestseller's book.”

  She clung to the phone and with a heavy heart, whispered, “Bye, babe. I love you.”

  “I love you too. Don't forget it.”

  They hung up and she placed the phone beside her, her hands trembling with anxiety. She shifted down on the mattress and curled up on her side, the tears free flowing and unbidden now. Her sobs shook her shoulders and the baby flipped with the rush of emotion coursing through her veins. She placed a quivering hand on her belly and her other hand curled into a fist to press into her mouth. At least he knows now. Oh God, what if something goes wrong and this book turns into a total flop, or someone figures out the story is about them and they sue me?

  Her stomach cramped and she rubbed the baby who was doing complete somersaults by this point. “Sorry, beautiful,” she whispered softly. “Mommy is awful, I'm sorry. I'm going to calm down.”

  Grams' voice came from the doorway. “Girl, you need to calm down. You want a glass of tea? I can make you one and we could talk for a bit. I know you've had yourself wound up tighter than a tick the past few weeks and been keeping secrets. I reckon that grandson of mine knows by now, but I think you still need to talk. Am I right?”

  Zoe flipped so she faced the door and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “Yeah, I could talk.”

  “Let me get the tea and I'll be right back, honey.”

  Zoe stared at the wall while she waited, worrisome thoughts flooding her mind still. I shouldn't have written about Rebel. He's going to figure it out. He's just going to. She swallowed the panic and bile rising in her throat and forced a smile on her face as Grams walked back in the room.

  Grams carried two tall Mason jars of iced tea in her grizzled hands. “Here you go, baby. Sit yourself up and have some tea. Now talk to me.”

  Zoe pushed herself up and took the glass of tea. Grams sat down on the mattress by her feet and smiled, waiting patiently for her to begin the story. Zoe took a sip of the sweet brew and blew out a breath. “Well. I wrote a book.”

  “Mhm,” Grams grunted. “I figured out that much on my own. Hope you know Layla has a mouth looser than a hooker's back end and she's spread that mess all over town. The calls coming in are enough to make me want to take the phone off the hook. You're famous, honey.”

  Zoe blanched and took another sip of the tea. “It's barely out.”

  Grams shrugged. “Well, honey, everyone in Major is about to snap up a copy. This is the most exciting thing to happen here in ages. We've got us a real, high-faluting author in this town, baby, and it's just the way it is.”

  Zoe shivered and goosebumps ran across her skin. “I – I wrote about the town.”

  Grams nodded. “I figured as much. Did you put a disclaimer in it, sayin' it's fictional and such? I sure hope you didn't put in it when I said we were goin' commando to find Layla, now did you? Or if you did, I sure hope you made me out to be a sexy Grams. I don't want to be portrayed as saggy and baggy.” Grams’ eyes sparkled with mirth and Zoe smiled.

  “You were portrayed as awesome, Grams, I promise.
Yes, I put a disclaimer saying all things were a figment of my imagination or if it was coincidental, it was not on purpose. My editor helped me with it.” She took another long draught of the tea.

  “You're gonna float away if you don't ease up on the tea, Zoe Hall. So did you write about Rebel?”

  Zoe nodded, a sick feeling filling her stomach and swimming around with the sweet iced tea. Bile raced up her throat again and she threw the sheets back as she scrambled across the hall to the bathroom and emptied her feelings out in the toilet with a shuddering heave. With a shaky hand, she pushed her hair back and washed her face with cool water. Finally feeling composed, she came back to the bedroom door and Grams took her hand, leading her back to bed.

  “Girl, you need to get your nerves together. You put it was co – cowinkadinkle, so there's nothing he can do.”

  Zoe's head snapped up and she looked at Grams curiously. “Cowinkadinkle?” She asked incredulously with a breathy laugh.

  “Yeah. What you said. If it was cowinkadinkle, it wasn't on purpose.” Grams nodded.

  “Coincidental. Yeah.”

  “Ain't that what I said, girl? Cowinkadinkle!” Grams smacked her lips with a huff.

  “Yeah, you did.” Zoe nodded. “I'm tired, Grams.”

  “Well, you better rest. Do you feel any better?”

  “Now that I threw up, yes. I want to sleep.”

  Grams ran a calloused hand across her forehead. “You rest, baby. Don't you worry. It's just a book. Most of Major ain't even gonna read it. Hell half of them can't even write their own name. I think you're gonna be fine.”

  Zoe smiled tiredly. “Thanks, Grams.”

  “You holler if you need to go upchuck again, you hear?” She paused at the door.

  Zoe nodded again. “Okay, Grams.”

  Her dreams came quickly while she slept. Vivid, horrible dreams of her brake lines being cut, just like her character Poppy's had been. Another dream left her shaking in a pool of sweat between the cotton sheets. Rebel had been in her dream, walking away with her daughter and carelessly tossing her off the bridge into the churning waves below.

  Zoe shivered as she tried to go back to sleep, but Rebel's face wouldn't leave her alone. The man is so damn evil. It's amazing what money will let you get away with...She mopped at the sweat on her brow with the corner of the sheet and took slow breaths, counting to one hundred, then five hundred, then a thousand before she finally slept again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dr. Crist smiled at her as he ran the ultrasound. “Thirty weeks, Zoe! I didn't think you'd make it here, frankly. We're doing good. She's growing fine, your cervix looks steady. I think we can get a few more weeks out of you just yet.”

  Zoe blew out a breath and grinned. “I always worry each week, Dr. Crist.”

  “I know you do, your blood pressure goes sky high, girl.” He handed her a paper towel to wipe off the gel and then helped her sit up. “You know,” he started as he turned to toss the paper towel into the trash. “I picked up your book off Amazon. The nurses have been talking about it. I have to admit, Zoe, it's a pretty good book. Normally I'm into stuff like Stephen King, but the story you wrote, it's real familiar.”

  She swallowed. “Ah, just something my brain came up with.”

  “Well, it's a hell of a story. Proud of you!” He clapped her shoulder and walked to the door. “Same time next week, Poppy – I mean, Zoe.” He winked as he closed the door.

  Zoe ran a hand through her hair and shot a glance at Grams, who hummed quietly while she knitted a blanket. “Grams, did you hear that?”

  “Mmm, I sure did. He called you Poppy. Ain't that the character in your book?” She glanced up at Zoe quickly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I wouldn't pay him no never mind, let's get you on home, I have some fried chicken to make.”

  “Grams, think we could swing by the house? Corey says he's on the final stretch and I'd love to see it. We don't have much time before the baby comes to air it out and get the nursery done.” Zoe carefully eased off the table and steadied herself.

  Grams tucked her knitting into her purse. “Sure we could. But just real quick like, we need to get you back home and in bed, you gotta keep baking this girl a little longer.”

  Zoe took her proffered hand and they walked down the hallway. As they came into the waiting room, she froze as her eyes collided with someone she hadn't seen in months. Amy sat in a chair, looking suspiciously round in the belly as she flipped through a mothering magazine. “No way in hell...” Zoe whispered.

  Grams paused and glanced where Zoe stared. “Well Lord love a duck. I'll be damned. Ain't that Amy Yoakum?”

  Amy glanced up from her magazine and her beautiful almond shaped eyes widened in panic. “Zoe...” she breathed, putting the magazine down on the side table next to her as she stood.

  Zoe backed up a step as Amy stepped forward, “Don't,” she managed to strangle out around the emotion blocking her throat.

  “Zoe, we need to talk. Not right now, but can we please talk, and soon?” Amy ran a hand down her bulging belly and she glanced back at her with a pleading look.

  “I – I don't want to talk to you, Amy.”

  “Well, I want our babies to know each other. After all, there is a chance they are siblings. I'm having a little boy... I heard you were having a girl.” Amy said softly.

  “Siblings?” Zoe said, her voice coming out a few decibels above a shriek.

  Amy nodded, her face solemn and sad. Her mouth opened to speak but the nurse came to the door. “Amy? It's time for your appointment.”

  Grams grabbed Zoe's elbow firmly and pulled her to the door, saving them both from a talk that neither wanted to have just yet.

  Zoe allowed herself to be propelled through the parking lot, and she woodenly climbed in the cab of the truck. She stared out the window as Grams drove. The barren landscape blurred together as she cried. Really, Derek? Here I am feeling sorry for you and thinking maybe you'd changed, and you got Amy pregnant? Really, Derek? I wonder if you knew. Do your parents know that you definitely have a mixed kid coming? Because unless Amy suddenly goes from ebony to ivory, I think they're gonna have real issues with that epiphany. A laugh bubbled from her throat and she started to giggle as she cried.

  Grams pulled over on the side of the road and shut the truck off. “Calm yourself down, girl. You're not making heads nor tails of anything right now and you're stressing the baby out.”

  Zoe wiped at her eyes and swallowed the residual laughter. “It's just funny, Grams. Along with being incredibly pathetic. Rebel hates black folks, and yet his son made a baby with one.” Laughter effervesced up her throat again and she slapped the dash with her hand as she laughed harder than she'd laughed in a long time.

  Grams sat patiently until the laughter subsided. With a stoic face she nodded once. “Yeah, you're right.” Then a slow smile stole across her weathered face. “It's damn funny, when you think about it. Talk about come-uppance. So. You gonna talk to this girl?”

  The mirth dancing in Zoe's eyes died as quickly as it had come. She stared back out at the scenery. “I don't know.”

  “If they are siblings, they got a right to know each other, Zoe Hall.”

  “I can't forgive her.” She crossed her arms across her chest and pouted as she stared at the bare trees on the side of the road.

  “And why not? Are you still with Derek? No indeed you are not. I'm not saying be best buddies with that viper again, I'm saying give her a chance to talk and if these babies are related, let them know each other. Hate ain't no way to live.”

  “Not today, but soon. I'll see what she has to say. But I'm not promising anything, Grams.” She finally agreed.

  Grams started the old truck again and pulled back onto the two lane road. “That's all I ask, Zoe.”

  A few moments later they pulled into the drive of the house Zoe had known all her life. It had been painted a rich, robin's egg blue and Zoe's heart squeezed as Grams parked
the truck. “It's beautiful...”

  Grams popped her door and climbed out. “It sure is.”

  Zoe followed suit, carefully stepping out of the car and taking Grams' hand. “Momma loved that color.”

  “It's a right pretty color. Come on let's get you inside real quick to look then back home so you can get your feet up. No lollygagging and staring, you hear me?”

  Zoe nodded as they climbed the stairs. She opened the front door and gasped at what she saw inside. Corey and his team had ripped up all traces of the seventies carpet and linoleum and replaced it with new wooden flooring. The walls were freshly painted in cream and the new kitchen was simple but gorgeous with new slate grey countertops.

  I almost miss the way it was...But it's better this way. It really is. “Corey?” She called out and the young blond came from the back of the house with a smile.

  “Zoe! Good to see you! What do you think so far?”

  “It's gorgeous,” she admitted. “It doesn't look like the same house.”

  “Come on back to the bathroom and the bedrooms, see what you think.” He held out a hand and Zoe took it. Grams stood in the middle of the kitchen, her mouth slightly agape.

  “Grams, I'll be back.”

  “You go on,” she waved. “I'm just going to look around in here.”

  Corey pointed out the new molding in the bedrooms, fresh paint and flooring. “What do you think?”

  “I – It doesn't look the same at all, Corey. Which is both good, and bad, I guess. A part of me misses the old house, but it just feels... I don't know, fresh in here. Like a fresh start.”

  Corey nodded. “I understand ... We'll be done by the end of this week, by the way. Just doing some last touches.”

  Zoe grinned wide. “I'm so excited. I can't believe it's almost done.”

  “Now you have to get everything set up for when your baby comes, right?” He led her back down the hallway and passed her off to Grams.

  “Yeah, we can expect her anytime. Just kind of baking the baby on borrowed time now. Each week we get past is better and better.” She walked to the door with Grams. “Thanks for everything, Corey. It looks great.”