Lily's Story: The Complete Saga

by Christine Kersey

  Kate. I’ll go by Kate Jamison. That was Mom’s nickname. Short for Katherine.

  Feeling better, I checked my email, but there were no new messages.

  I wonder if Trevor’s still in jail.

  I put my laptop away and turned on the TV, watching a movie until hunger forced me to get up and find some food. I drove to a nearby fast food place and brought the meal back to my room, then watched TV until I was too tired to stay awake.

  When I woke the next morning, I thought it would be interesting to drive around the small town where I’d spent the night. Not yet sure what my next move would be, I didn’t check out of the motel.

  As I passed through different neighborhoods, I found myself on the outskirts of town, and with my poor sense of direction, I’d become turned around and wasn’t sure where I was.

  Pulling over to take a look at the map I’d purchased when I’d stopped to fill up my car earlier—my cell phone plan didn’t include data, so I had no GPS—I glanced around, trying to figure out what street I was on. There were almond orchards all around me and I didn’t see any street signs.

  Sighing heavily, I climbed out of my car and leaned against the hood, trying to calm myself before choosing a direction to turn. As I gazed into the distance, I noticed a gravel road leading to a small house and decided to drive to it.

  Maybe someone there can tell me how to get back to the motel.

  I got back into my car and drove toward the gravel road, turning left up the unpaved drive to the house. No cars were around, and I wondered if anyone was home.

  Hoping someone would be home, I turned off my engine, got out of the car, and approached the house. I immediately saw the For Rent sign in the front window. Taking a chance that someone still lived there, I followed the stone pavers to the front porch and knocked on the door. No one answered.

  The curtain on the front window was open and I cupped my hand and pressed it to the glass as I peered inside. The place was vacant.

  I stepped off the porch and stared at the house, taking in the blue shutters, the colorful pansies blooming in the flower garden, and the overall coziness of the house. Warmth rushed through me as I realized this was where I wanted to live.

  I pictured myself living there with my baby, happy and safe, and as I imagined myself sitting on the porch, my baby in my arms, I knew I could make a life for myself and my child—a life filled with joy. I knew there would be challenges, but I believed the good in my life would overcome any bad I might face.

  A contented smile curved my lips.

  Yes. This is where I need to be.

  Don’t Look Back

  Lily’s Story, Book 2

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Don’t Look Back (Lily’s Story, Book 2)

  Copyright © 2011 by Christine Kersey

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  eBook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Discover other exciting titles by Christine Kersey available through her official author website: ChristineKersey.com or through most online retailers.

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  Chapter One

  I stood on the gravel driveway and gazed at the house I wanted to live in. Blue shutters framed the windows and colorful pansies lined the walkway leading to the wide front porch. If I’d ever imagined the perfect place to live, this would be it. The only thing missing was the picket fence.

  Excitement pulsed through me as I pictured myself living there with my baby. But when I considered how high the rent would surely be, worry replaced the excitement. Though I had eighty-five thousand dollars to draw on, I had no immediate prospects for a job and needed the money to last as long as possible.

  But I needed to find a place to settle. I had to try.

  I hurried back to my car and took my new cell phone out of my purse, then called the number written on the For Rent sign. Disappointed to get voice mail, I left a message and put the phone in my pocket.

  Eager to get a better look, I walked around the side of the house and went through a gate, then made my way to the back porch. A door led to the kitchen, and when I cupped my hand to the window on the door, I saw a small kitchen with plenty of cupboards and an adjoining breakfast nook. I walked around the entire house, but the rest of the windows had curtains and I couldn’t see inside.

  Back on the front porch, I peered through the living room window and saw a small room with hardwood floors and a fireplace.

  This place is adorable.

  Ready to make my way back to the motel where I’d spent the night, I walked back to my car, but before I got in, my cell phone rang. Startled by the sound, and afraid the caller would somehow be my husband, Trevor, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and checked the Caller ID. It was a local area code.

  It must be the owner of the house.

  “Hello?” My voice betrayed my eagerness.

  “Is this the person who called about the house?” The woman sounded friendly.

  “Yes. Is it still available?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “That’s great.” A smile of anticipation curved my mouth. “I’m at the house now. Is it possible for me to take a look inside?”

  The woman spoke to someone in the background, then to me. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  After promising to wait, I closed my phone, then realized I’d forgotten to ask about the rent. Frowning, I sat on the porch.

  Fifteen minutes later I heard a car approaching, and when I looked toward the road I saw a car turning into the gravel drive, then pull to a stop. A moment later an older woman climbed out of the car and made her way toward me.

  Standing as the woman approached, I smiled.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” the woman said, then glanced around. “Is it just you, dear?”

  I smiled. “Yep, just me.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I’d really like to see the inside of the house, if that’s okay.” I hoped she wouldn’t have a problem with me being on my own.

  The woman smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Mary.”

  I shook her hand, my fears easing. “Kate. Kate Jamison.” My false identity sounded foreign to me, but I hoped I’d said it naturally enough. I would need to get used to using it since I’d decided that using my real name, Lily, would make it too easy for Trevor to find me.

  She pointed to my car. “I see you’re from Nevada. I lived there for a while myself.”

  “Oh. How long have you lived in California?”

  “About thirty years, I guess.” She paused. “How old are you, dear?”

  “I’ll be twenty-one next month.”

  “And your parents don’t mind you moving all the way here by yourself?”

  Unprepared for the question, especially since it reminded me how truly alone I was, I hesitated. “I don’t know how they would feel. They’re both . . . dead.” To keep the tears at bay, I blinked several times.

  Mary placed her hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How sad for you.”

  Nodding, I tried to smile.

  “Well, let’s take a look inside, shall we?” She pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped back to allow me to enter first.

  The interior was stuffy from being closed up on a warm day, but I still liked the feel of the place. It was a small house—more like a two-story cottage—but it was clean. I walked around the empty living room, taking in the scuffed walls, but thought the room was plenty big.

  “You would be welcome to paint, if you’d like,” Mary said, ob
viously seeing the same scuff marks I’d seen.

  “Okay.”

  A combination half-bath/laundry room was off the hall that led to the kitchen, which excited me—having my own laundry room would be a luxury.

  “The washer and dryer are older, but they work,” Mary said.

  “Perfect.”

  We moved into the U-shaped kitchen. Medium-sized, it had plenty of storage and counter space, as well as an adjacent dining room.

  “This house has been here for a long time,” Mary said as I followed her from room to room. “My husband and I bought it and lived here when we first moved to California. We quickly outgrew it of course, but we decided to hang on to it.”

  “How many bedrooms are there?” I asked as we ascended the narrow staircase.

  “Just the two.”

  At the top of the stairs I turned right, which was the only way to go. I walked down the hallway and turned left, into the larger of the two bedrooms. Like the rest of the house, it had hardwood floors. There were two windows—one each on two separate walls.

  “Lots of natural light,” Mary pointed out.

  I nodded as I walked out of the bedroom and peeked into the small bathroom situated next to the master bedroom. I stepped across the hall into the second bedroom and could immediately picture a crib along one wall and a dresser and changing table against the other.

  “This would be perfect for the baby,” I murmured.

  “Baby? What baby?” Mary asked.

  Alarmed that I’d spoken out loud, I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Are you pregnant, dear?” Mary asked, glancing at my left ring finger.

  Glad I’d left my wedding ring on, I nodded.

  “Will the baby’s father be living here too?”

  Panicked that if I gave out too much information Trevor would somehow find me, I hesitated. “No. He’s no longer . . . around.”

  “What do you mean? Is he . . . dead?”

  Somehow, at that moment, it seemed easier to let the woman believe I was a widow. I nodded.

  “You poor thing. You’ve certainly had your share of tragedy, now haven’t you?”

  Thinking about the last year, the loss of my father, and my bad marriage to Trevor and how he’d treated me, lied to me and about me, I couldn’t hold back the tears. It was like a damn bursting and I pressed my hands to my eyes to try to stop the flow.

  Mary wrapped her arms around me and murmured comforting words. The empathy I felt from her made me sob even harder, but after a few minutes I managed to get myself under control. Wiping the tears from my face, I straightened and faced her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”

  “That’s okay, dear. Sometimes we need a good cry.”

  I nodded as she ushered me back down the stairs and onto the front porch. Calmness settled over me. “Thank you for showing me the house.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Very much, but I’m afraid I probably can’t afford it.”

  “How do you know that when I haven’t even told you how much the rent is?”

  “Well, I can only imagine how much it is and I doubt it will fit my budget.” I smiled again, trying to hide my disappointment. “But thank you for coming all the way out here to show it to me.”

  “Young lady, I do believe we can work something out.” Kindness radiated from her eyes. “I’d like to see you live here. I think you would take good care of this old place.” She paused. “Tell me how much you’ve budgeted for rent.”

  I told her the most I felt comfortable paying.

  “That seems fair to me. And the peace of mind I would have in knowing my property is in good hands has value too.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” I could hardly believe my good fortune.

  “This place is paid for. And the last few tenants didn’t love the place like I know you will.”

  “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.” I gently stroked my flat stomach. “To both of us.”

  She arranged to meet me back at the house the next morning so I could sign the rental agreement and pay the first month’s rent along with a security deposit.

  As I drove back to the motel, I paid careful attention to where I was so I could find my way back the next day.

  Chapter Two

  As I lay in bed that night, I wondered what Trevor was doing at that very moment.

  Is he thinking about me? Is he plotting how to find me? Is he still in jail or did his friend Bronson bail him out? How did he react when he discovered I’d taken back the money he stole from me? What’s he telling his parents about his new wife and why I left? Is he still trying to convince them I’m the one who has a drinking problem rather than him? Perhaps he told them I’ve gone on a binge and left in a drunken stupor and he doesn’t know where I am or when I’ll be back.

  As I thought about the lies he’d told about me, I seethed with anger. He’d tricked me, plain and simple. It was true that from the start he’d never portrayed himself as the perfect man, but he certainly hadn’t told me he was a thief and a liar either.

  He also didn’t tell me he had such a temper. Or is it my fault he behaved that way? Did I set him off each time? Could I have done something different to prevent his outbursts and jealousy?

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. It’s not my fault. I’m the same person I’ve always been and no one has ever hurt me like that. No one except Trevor.

  I wondered if I would always have bad judgment when it came to men.

  It doesn’t matter anyway. I have no desire to get involved with anyone ever again. Besides, technically I’m still married, and the only thing I want to focus on is myself and my baby. That’s all that matters now.

  I finally drifted off to sleep, but near morning I woke abruptly from a nightmare. Trevor had found me and locked me up again. But this time there was an added terror—he had taken my baby.

  Not able to fall back asleep, I showered, packed my belongings, and checked out of the motel. Trying to shake off the lingering fear the nightmare had generated, I focused on the possibilities that my future held.

  Driving around the small town in the early morning dawn, I thought I was going to like living here. The downtown was hardly more than two rows of stores lining the street. Although there weren’t a lot of shops, the area was quite pretty. Trees seemed to march up and down the street, and bricks formed crosswalks at each corner.

  No one was around this early in the morning, but I had time to kill, so I pulled my car into a parking space and climbed out. As I walked the short distance from one end of the block to the other, I looked in the store windows. When I came to a bakery and saw a Help Wanted sign, I stopped.

  Do I have a chance of getting a job there?

  Through the window I saw a woman pouring flour into a large mixer. I decided once I’d moved my few belongings into my new house, I’d come back and apply for a job.

  It was nearly time to meet with Mary, so I walked back to my car and drove to the house. As I pulled up to the little cottage, I felt a thrill at the prospect of living there. Although I didn’t have any furniture, I was sure I could find some things at garage sales. In the meantime I would make do.

  Mary arrived a short time later, but this time she brought her husband, Edward. He was just as friendly as Mary.

  “Thank you so much for giving me a break on the rent,” I said.

  Edward smiled. “Mary told me about your situation and we’re happy to help you out.”

  Guilt at the lie that I was a widow swept over me, and I hoped it hadn’t played too large a part in their decision to cut the rent. Though I felt bad for the lie, I hadn’t done it to purposely trick anyone so much as to protect myself and my unborn child.

  When they presented the rental agreement, I hesitated.

  Should I sign my name as Lily or Kate?

  They hadn’t asked to see an ID, so I went ahead and signed as Kate Jamison, making my deception complete. I handed the pape
r back to them and they didn’t question it. I gave them the first month’s rent and the security deposit in cash, and they gave me the key.

  “The utilities were never turned off,” Edward said. “You’ll just need to put them in your name.” He smiled. “By the way, when is the moving truck arriving?”

  A blush rose on my face. “Actually, this is it.” I pointed to my car.

  “What about your furniture?” Mary asked, concern clear on her face.

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be able to find what I need.”

  “You mean you’re buying all new things?” The idea of such an extravagance obviously shocked her.

  “Oh no,” I said. “I’ll hit the garage sales. And isn’t there a Goodwill around here somewhere?”

  “Yes, there’s one in the next town.”

  “Great. I’ll check it out.”

  Mary smiled uncertainly. “Okay. We’ll let you get to it.”

  I returned her smile. “Thank you again for your kindness.”

  They left after that and I was able to move my things into the house. As I hung my belongings on the few hangers that had been left in the closet, I wondered what would be comfortable to sleep on that night.

  I could buy an air mattress and sleeping bag. It would be like the campouts Dad used to take me on.

  Sweet remembrance of the good times I had shared with my father warmed me, but that feeling was replaced by a pang of guilt at the idea that I was depriving my own child of the company of his or her father. But as I thought of the harm Trevor could do by treating me so poorly in front of our child, my remorse vanished. I knew I was doing the right thing. I knew it more clearly than I had ever known anything in my life. Nodding in grim satisfaction, I finished hanging up my clothes.

  In the kitchen I put away the few pieces of my mother’s china that I’d managed to salvage from Trevor’s fit of rage. Peace at having even a small bit of my childhood home in my new home swept over me. Once the last plate was placed on the shelf, I stood back and surveyed my kitchen.