Losing Her (The Lexington Series Book 1)

by Belle Winters

  I frowned, how the hell did Landon filter into my thoughts now? GOD! On top of school being shitty, I might not have the comfort of being alone in this new place. It might be just as shitty. I look at my head full of curly hair. My hair so dark and black it looks like there’s a bluish tint to it. Thankfully, my hair isn’t really thick. I always pictured if it were thicker I’d probably look like Medusa with my hair out. I’ve always loved them that’s why I wear my hair natural when I’m not around anyone. But outside I don’t… you know so I don’t provoke attention (I’m sure you’re figuring out why I prefer not to be noticed). Hmmmm, I take one last look at myself and decide I’m all about offending people today. As a stand I unplug the hair dryer and decide to let my curls give me the much needed confidence boost to endure today.

  I finish packing the last pieces in my room and I’m complete. I opted for sweats and a t-shirt. I need comfort since I have no idea how much work this is going to take. I mean, I’ve never moved before. I leave my room around 8:15 and head downstairs to make sure that there isn’t something of mine I forgot. As I descend the stairs I don’t really look around. I don’t want to see my home bare. I want to remember it as I’ve always known it. When I reach the living room however, it all starts to filter in. The very few pictures of me growing up are still on the walls. None of the furniture is covered. The books are still on the bookshelf. What the fuck is going on? I walk into the kitchen and the fridge still has things in it. The cabinets are still full. Hell the dishes from my dinner last night are still sitting in the dishwasher clean. My hope rises. We’re not moving! Nothing is ready to go. Is that why she’s been so tightlipped about giving me information? I wouldn’t put it past her to not think about me needing to know the engagement was broken off or they decided to do things slower. Hell I’m not even mad about having to unpack all my things. I will do so happily. I was turning to go upstairs and do just that when the front door opened and my mom walked in.

  I turned around and gave her a beaming smile. “Hey mom.”

  “Lucy darling, you seem excited. That makes me so happy dear. I knew you’d come around.”

  I give her a questioning look. I’m not sure what she’s talking about anymore. “What do you mean?”

  Now she looks just as confused as me. Great, this is getting awkward really freaking fast. “The move honey, you’ve known for days. If you’re done we can actually get a move on it now.” My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline as I look around again. Surely I’m not imagining that all of this stuff is still sitting here. I look out the window to see if the moving truck has gotten here yet. All I see is a SUV I’ve never seen before in the drive. My confusion keeps building and that’s when I finally take a look at my mom. She’s wearing a chain with a diamond pendant around her neck and a matching tennis bracelet and diamond earring studs. The rest of her is wrapped up in a light pink wrap dress that hugs her curves just right and 3 inch heels with a red bottom, with a designer clutch tucked under her arm. Her bleached blond hair is up in some sort of elegant styled bun, and her blue eyes are framed by thick eyelashes that aren’t natural. Whether they’re fake or she’s found some amazing mascara is up for debate. This is not my mom. Did I mention that we don’t look alike? We have none of our features in common except for her body build. I’m not skinny, but I’m also not fat. I’m a little heavy in the breast and ass department with a flat stomach, just like her. Where her skin is fair mine, I look like I tan regularly.

  I mentioned that my mom owned her own shop. We were fine. When my dad died he left us some money that’s allowed us to live comfortably. But although I’m not crazy about designer stuff, I know it. I tended to try to stay away from knowing too much about that stuff. I try to avoid the whole wanting what you can’t have. I’m not delusional as to thinking I should be getting thousand dollar bags and shoes. That’s outside of our comfort level. I’ve never seen any of these things before. Where had it all suddenly come from? I start with the easier question, “but, none of our stuff is packed. This is going to take more than a few minutes to get done.” I’ve already resigned myself to having to help her with the task. It’s probably why she waited last minute. Evil, evil witch.

  She waved a hand in the air and chuckled as if I’m extremely amusing. “Oh honey, we’re not taking any of this stuff. I told you to pack up your clothes and whatever you wanted to take. I have a box of stuff that I’m taking. I just came back from getting the truck to fit our stuff. So if you’re all done, we can go now.” She placed her hands on her hips waiting for my confirmation. It was then I noted the excitement in her eyes. She’s practically bouncing. Its then I realized were not actually getting a new home, we’re moving into someone else’s. They should already have furniture, you know with the kids and stuff. DUH! She’s putting this stuff in storage. That’s why we don’t need to do anything now. I’m so silly. The house didn’t even sell yet. Everything happened so fast, I don’t even think it’s officially on the market yet.

  Now that the entire situation makes complete sense, well as much sense as it can, I look up at her and give her a brief nod. “Well I guess so then, yea.”

  She claps her hands together, “perfect! So we’re gone once you’re done straightening your hair and change. Hurry, hurry.”

  I look down at my clothes, what the fuck? I think I’m going to be saying this sentence a lot more frequently than usual. “What are you talking about? I’m not changing. I’ve got to move boxes around. What’s wrong with my hair?”

  My mom frowns and pouts for a few seconds. She seems to have decided something when she gives me a brief nod and a look of determination comes over her face. “Let’s get out of here then.”

  I stare out the window on the entire drive, but I don’t see a thing. I just keep thinking of the home I no longer have and what mysteries lie ahead. I haven’t had a panic attack in a long time, and I’m afraid that if I think too much about what’s happening, I’ll have one and it will be epic. Instead, I zone out and think of drawing, my other escape. I’m great at it although I know it holds no futures. But it allows me to let free the things I feel inside. Other than my journal I need a way to express myself. Lately though, my paintings have seemed to grow serious undertones of sadness and despair. I’m not sure why, but this is what the art teacher I worked with over the summer has told me. Now’s not the time however to dissect this. Instead, I think of what I would paint now if I had my equipment in hand.

  I’m still adding detail to the dragon I’m drawing in my head when my mom’s voice infiltrates my vision. “Uh Lucy, did you hear me? We’re here. We’re home.” I look over at her and get out of the car. I don’t know how long we’ve been in here and I don’t remember seeing a single street, but I know we’re still in Lexington which I don’t know is a relief or not. I walk to the back of the car to get my boxes out. She walks around the front and comes to a halt. “Don’t be silly honey. Let’s get inside so you can see where your room will be and get introductions done first ok? I just can’t wait for you to meet Dean and our new life.” The ending was said with a wistful sigh and a big smile. I turn from the car with a nod and follow her. I feel like I’m in a trance and going through the motions. As we’re getting closer to the steps leading to the front door I finally snap out of it and take in my surroundings. I looked around and knew we were in one of the higher end neighborhoods in Virginia I wasn’t particularly familiar with. There is a huge white house in front of me. Well house seems like an understatement… this place is a mansion! My mom is already at the front door which is being opened so I don’t have time to take in much else except the flowers blooming in the grass that is on the sides of the walkway.

  I step into the foyer and I hear my mom with another female voice. One of the kid’s maybe? I edge closer and see an older woman standing with my mom. She’s definitely older than my mother. I gasp and look on in shock. Oh no! This can’t be true. If that’s one of his kids how old is this man. Please don’t tell me that mom has a sugar dad
dy. He’s got to be an old wrinkly man that’s probably about to keel over. GROSS! I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. Looking around at the marble floors in the foyer and the wrap around staircase, this place reeks of money and more money. The more I think about it the more plausible it sounds. Of all the horrors that crossed my mind, that was definitely not one of them. I notice they’re both staring at me in confusion.

  “Sorry, I’m Lucy. You must be one of his children... it’s nice to meet you?” I couldn’t have sounded any more surprised and probably grossed out. Not to mention my introduction sounded more like a question than a sincere statement. Well shoot me; I did not sign up for this.

  The woman looked completely surprised, and then she shook her head as if clearing it and laughed. “Oh god no. Dear, I am Dean’s assistant. He took the day off to be here when you guys arrived to help you get settled, but something came up last minute at the office. When he took off this morning he asked me to stay to show you to your rooms. The kids are at school so you will get to meet everyone later.” She waited for a beat after that as if letting me take it all in. I relaxed instantly and released a breath of relief. Seeming satisfied that’s all cleared up she continued. “Now with that being said, let me show you to your new rooms and then I’ll be going to let you all get acclimated here.”

  My room was located on the second floor. We weren’t given a grand tour or anything; I guess that’s for later. I was deposited at the door and they continued on. At this point I couldn’t care less. I turned the knob and proceeded in. the room was massive! I mean this room is the size of my living room or maybe larger. There is a queen sized canopy bed in the middle against the far wall. There was a balcony off to the side with soft green curtains. There was a desk, and dresser the same cherry wood as the bed. Walking across the champagne colored carpeting, I opened the first door. It was a huge walk in closet with shelves for days for shoes. There was a comfortable looking chaise in here it was so large. There was a long floor to ceiling mirror on the back wall. I turned in place three times as I came to terms that this will probably remain as empty as it is. No way do I have enough to fill this thing, nor do I think I ever will. Leaving the door open I went to the next door in the far corner opposite to the entrance. This was a bathroom. I’m talking like a high end hotel… one of the bathrooms you’d find in their best suites. All marble with a claw foot tub, and a shower. There’s his and her sinks which makes me a bit depressed. I mean, I love this bathroom but the fact I’ll never have anyone to share something like this with makes me turn around and walk out. I decide the best option would be to get my stuff unpacked to preoccupy my mind.

  A few hours later, all my stuff is in the room and I’ve unpacked a decent amount of clothes and necessities. I’m drained from walking up and down the stairs with each box. I don’t think it needs to be said I did it without any help. I’m a sweaty exhausted mess. I decide to try out the shower. Once I smell and look normal again I slip on one of my comfortable t-shirts and a pair of underwear and crawl into the bed. It’s so comfortable I have no problem falling asleep.

  I wake to my mom shaking my shoulders. “Lucy, wake up. Dean is here. I need you to come down and meet him dear.” One eye opens and I peer at her. I want to wave her off and tell her no, but I kind of figure that’s not an option this time around. I drag myself to sit up straight and wipe my face looking for drool. She gives me a disgusted look and says “well why don’t you try to use a washrag, and maybe brush your teeth and straighten your hair. You know, to make a good first impression and all. I’ll let him know you need a few minutes. I’ll see you downstairs shortly.” She gives me a hard look saying that this is not up for discussion and saunters out the room. Once the door is shut I flip her off then get out of bed. I’m irritated no doubt. It’s not like I wanted this and asked for it. Besides what does my look have to do with anything? This is so damn stupid. By the time my internal dialogue has made its point I’m simmering with anger and rebellion.

  I descend the stairs 10 minutes later, sporting my most comfortable (and rattiest) sweat pants. Which are also a tad larger than my normal baggy. I’m still wearing my sleep shirt that is also baggy and extremely comfortable. I did opt for a bra though. I have on mismatch socks with the slipper bottoms and my hair is still curly and thrown into a messy bun on top of my head. In other words, I look like me when I’m home. I’m hoping this fact is not lost on her. I find them eventually in the kitchen. I’m standing in the entryway looking around. Once again there is nothing but marble countertops. There is every appliance you can imagine in here. There is a breakfast bar with stools. There’s a family table in the dining area off the kitchen. The floor is sunken there. A beautiful chandelier hangs elegantly over the table. My first thought is if anyone eats there. Do they sit around there every night together and have dinner as a family and discuss their day in animated details? I’ve never had that. Would I be expected to join? I hear someone clear their throat and refocus my attention to the people in the room. My mom is staring at me with clear disdain in her eyes. She’s pissed. That makes me happy and the first genuine smile since we’ve got in the car spreads across my face. Her eyes narrow. Her eyes shift and I look to her left. There is a guy standing there facing her with his back to me. He’s wearing a dark gray suit that doesn’t seem to have a wrinkle in it. She says something low and he turns around.

  Damn. Way to go mom. I mean not my type, definitely old enough to be my dad. But holy smokes he’s some kind of hot. He’s got broad shoulders and looks like he must have an amazing body underneath that three piece suit. He has a light goatee, dirty blond hair that doesn’t look like there’s a hair out of place. But in a natural way, not like he’s run chemicals through it. He gives me a smile where twin dimples poke out of his cheeks and shows off his straight white teeth. But it’s his eyes. These striking green intense eyes like they see all know all. I can’t help but stare at them for a minute. There’s something about them. I tilt my head to the side and feel my brows furrow. Have I seen him before? Maybe I have met him and mom doesn’t remember?

  “Hey there kiddo. Great to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Dean, and you’re the infamous Lucy?” his voice is deep and kind of inviting. Some of the tension in me eases a bit. I mean I’ve only been around him for a few seconds but he seems pretty ok, at least now. He extends his hand out to me.

  “Hi, Yep that’s me. Nice to meet you Dean.” I shake his hand. He smiles at me genuinely.

  “Well, Max is here so you can meet him shortly. He’s taken his stuff to his room. LJ will be here eventually. I told him to come straight home that this was important.” Just then a boy pops up in the room.

  “Dad, can we have pizza? I’m hungry.” I look down and see the cutest thing ever. He has to be about 5 or 6 years old. He resembles his dad a lot, but instead of those green intense eyes he has innocent blue ones.

  “Max, do you remember when I told you about me getting married and your new sister and step mother coming to live with us today? I want you to say hello.” Max looked up at us his eyes bouncing from me to my mother and back again. It’s like he just realized we were in the room. Dean puts his hands on Max’s shoulders and turns him to face my mother. “This is Rebecca, my fiancée.” My mom leans down and extends her hand in a dainty fashion. Really mom? This is a freaking kid, where this high class shit came from I have no idea. This is something I need to get to the bottom of. He doesn’t take her hand but gives her a small smile and moves to try to hide behind his dad’s legs. My mom withdraws her hand and her smile is strained. It wouldn’t be obvious if you didn’t know my mom, but I do. She doesn’t like being snubbed… by anyone. With his hands still on his shoulders he turns him my way and nudges him up a bit. I can see the wariness in Max’s face. He seems both shy and scared. Dean starts to talk but I cut him off, “Max th-“

  I drop down on my knees to be at the same height as him. His head tilts to the side. “Hey there Max, I’m Lucy. My friends call
me Luce.” He smiles then. Then he snickers, those turn into giggles. I have no idea what’s so funny about what I said but he’s enjoying it. I catch myself smiling back at him. This kid is just freaking adorable, and totally innocent. When his giggles subside some I find myself curious. One of my eyebrows lift and I can’t wipe the smile off my face either, “what’s so funny? I want to laugh too.”

  He laughs again and takes a tentative step towards me. He responds to me and his voice is so small I almost don’t catch it. “Your name’s Lucy Lu. But you don’t look like you can fight bad guys like the angels my sister likes to watch?” it’s said more of a question than a statement. It only takes a minute but I catch on. I laugh out loud. He’s referring to the Charlie’s Angels movies. He seems generally interested if I can take down a bad guy. It’s adorable.

  “Well I don’t think I’ve ever tried to take down super bad guys. But I’d like to think I can do it. But I might need a sidekick. There were 3 angels remember that help each other. You would be on my team right?” he tilts his head to the side one way, then the other as if he’s really thinking this over. I keep watching him with a hopeful expression and I make my best impression of a pleading face like I really need his help. That seems to do the trick because he gives me the most amazing smile and nods his head excitedly. He turns to his father and looks up at him hopefully.