Enough
Copyright © 2015 by Dawn L. Chiletz
Cover Designer and Editor: Murphy Rae
[email protected]
Formatting by JT Formatting
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For my mother
Title Page
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Part Two
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Acknowledgements
About the Author
I HAVE THIS feeling in my chest. It’s hard to describe. There’s motion all around me, and for a moment I feel a little dizzy. An older man with silver hair staggers past me with a box of bran flakes and a couple of microwave meals in his cart. He briefly raises his eyes to mine before he lowers them again. I feel sad for him and wonder if he’s alone. Then I remember that I am, too.
An angry beanstalk of a woman with her hair in a braid pushes past me to grab something from behind me. I’m in the way. I try to move for her, but she huffs loudly and gives me an evil glare. I know I shouldn’t just be standing here, but my feet don’t want to move.
See, a few moments ago I realized I’m not happy. It’s not a new thought; it’s just become a lot stronger in this moment than it’s been over the past ten years. It’s more than just not being happy. It’s this feeling of emptiness. That feeling creates an ache—no, a pain—in my chest that seems to radiate through my shoulders, into my neck and brain, before it circles back around again in a constant flow. A young couple laughs as they stride past me, shopping together. I give them a slight smile as they glance at my overflowing cart and their eyes bulge. Yeah, I know I buy a lot, but dammit, this is two weeks’ worth of food and I have a growing son and daughter to think about.
The ache is back as he leans down and kisses the side of her head. My eyes close as I try to summon a breath. I attempt to remember a time when someone felt that way about me, but I can’t. A slender woman in a tailored suit and heels struts past me. I take a peek into her cart: strawberries and wine. I chuckle to myself until I see the big-ass rock and wedding band on her hand and realize she’s married too. My mouth waters for a glass of wine. I can’t remember the last time I had a grown-up drink, let alone had a reason to dress up. My head drops as I suddenly feel uncomfortable in my yoga pants, oversized sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. I must look like a frumpy loser to everyone around me. This sucks. I suck. I should have gotten up earlier and put my make-up on before I drove the kids to school, but I was so tired, I just couldn’t pull myself out of bed.
My phone buzzes and a brief smile lifts the corner of my mouth. It’s my best friend, Gwen, with her standard check-in. I tighten my slipping ponytail as I scan her text.
Gwen: What’s up, chica?
I release a deep breath and write her back.
Everly: I’m in Walton’s.
There’s a pause. I know she’s at work and I’m slightly jealous.
Gwen: You mean you’re in Hell?
I can’t help but laugh. I swear if it weren’t for Gwen, I wouldn’t make it through the day.
Gwen: How about we get a movie and order a pizza tonight?
I sigh and close my eyes. If only.
Everly: Can’t. Mike’s working late, Kale has karate, and Marlow has soccer.
Gwen: Jeez, do you ever get a break?
My fingers press into my forehead and pulse over the throb in my brain. A strikingly handsome man assesses me from my head to my feet. I know he’s staring in horror. What else could it be with the way I’m dressed? After realizing I only have an hour until the kids are home from school, I decide to put an end to my freak-out moment and get my ass moving. I stuff my phone back into my purse. Gwen already knows the answer to her question. I don’t need to tell her. The answer is no. No, I don’t get a break. If you asked my husband, he’d tell you my whole life has been a break, but he’s also not the one taking care of everything at home.
As I push my cart down the paper aisle, I reach for the paper plates and toilet paper and stuff them in the only available space in the bottom of the cart. My mind quickly rushes over the last ten years and I feel the ache return in my chest. How did I get here? How in the hell is this my life?
Ten years earlier
“YOU’RE PREGNANT? ARE you sure?” he asks warily.
Although I’m still in shock and rubbing my sweaty hands on my suddenly cold arms, I manage a reply. “I’m sure. I took three tests.”
“And you’re sure it’s mine?”
I close my eyes and feel a sudden disgust for Mike I’ve never felt before. We’ve been dating for a year and I’ve never seen him act this way. “How can you possibly ask me that? Of course I’m sure it’s yours. What kind of question is that?”
His breathing is ragged and his eyes are larger than I’ve ever seen them. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to say.”
I get the not expecting it part. It wasn’t my plan either. I’m an unmarried, twenty-year-old college girl with two years left before I complete my degree in nursing. A baby? What are we going to do? I roll my hands over my shoulders. I feel like I’m going to barf. It’s not from being pregnant, I don’t think. It’s most likely because I’m scared out of my mind. Mike must see the distance in my expression. He stares at me as my eyes close tightly and I try to think how we could have been so stupid as to not use protection. One time. The one time I think it will be okay. I’m so dumb!
“What are you going to do?” he asks me.
I tilt my head and gl
are at him. Did he just say what I think he said? I hope he can feel my anger as I roar my response. “You mean, what are we going to do?”
He lifts his eyes to me. “Yeah, we. That’s what I meant. We.”
I stumble past him and slowly slide down on the sofa in his off-campus apartment. I’m really glad his roommate isn’t home. “I don’t know…” I respond shakily.
His lips purse as he expectantly stands next to me with his hands on his hips. I’m staring at his waist and feeling a sudden urge to punch his dick. Not only for getting me pregnant, but also just because it’s the name I want to call him for his behavior since I broke the news to him.
“Should we get rid of it?” he asks unemotionally.
My eyes dart up to his. “What? No! We couldn’t! Is that what you want?”
He falls into the space next to me and turns my shoulders so that I’m facing him. “You know I love you, right?”
I nod my head, even though I’m not sure I believe him at the moment.
“It’s just really bad timing, you know? I mean, I still have two years of business school left and a lot I want to do. Being a dad isn’t one of those things right now.”
“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you promised me you’d pull out and then didn’t.”
Mike leaps abruptly in defense. “Fuck, Everly! Are you blaming me for this?”
Even though I totally am, I shake my head no because I don’t want to fight right now.
“I just think it would be best if we put it behind us,” he adds as he scratches his head and stares down into my eyes.
I glare at him as I ask, “Are you suggesting I have an abortion?” My hand protectively covers my stomach as my eyes search his fearfully. Is this the same guy I saw bounce a baby on his leg at his cousin’s wedding three months ago?
“Listen…” he begins.
I feel a gurgle and twist in my stomach. It’s like the baby is trying to tell me what my brain is already saying. Listen…? Hell no. I’m not a “listen” kinda girl. That word alone has so many condescending undertones it makes me cringe and lurch at the same time. I hear the voice inside my head scream at me. Run, Everly, run. Screw him. You don’t need him. If he doesn’t want this baby, then you don’t want him.
“I’m thinking about you too, you know. What will your grandmother say? How are you going to complete your classes with a baby?”
I swallow hard. I hadn’t thought about telling my Grandma Kay. She’s the only family I have left since my parents died in an accident right before I graduated high school. She’d always been like a second mom to me, and after their loss, I needed her more than ever. I can picture the disappointment in her eyes when I tell her.
“I just think you need to consider all your options,” Mike continues.
“What is it with this you stuff? Is this not our baby? Why are you making it sound like this is all on me?”
Mike sits back down and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I immediately feel warmer until he hugs it briefly and releases me. What the hell? If I hadn’t said anything about a baby tonight, I guarantee I would have been sitting on his lap with his tongue down my throat. Now, when I need his support the most, he’s barely touching me? I need him to hold me.
“I know it ours, okay?” he responds with a sigh and a roll of his eyes.
I leap from my sitting position and rush toward the door, grabbing my backpack as I run.
“Where are you going?” he asks, shocked.
I turn as I reach for the handle. “I really thought you’d be supportive. I really thought you’d be holding me and telling me it was going to be okay because you love me and want me, and that we’d somehow be all right.”
“Everly… I do love you. I’m just scared, okay?”
“Don’t you think I’m scared too?” I question anxiously.
“I know you are. It’s just that you’ve always been the strong one. You’ve always been the one who thinks things through. I don’t have any answers. I really just need you to be strong right now and make the right decision for the both of us.”
I can feel tears in my eyes. I can’t take another minute of him. I am the strong one—all the time. I listen to him and offer advice. I help him pick out his classes and tell him what to say to his professor when he needs an extension on an assignment. And now, when I need him… when I really need him the most, he can’t be here for me in any way, shape, or form. It’s like I suddenly have a disease, and he’s afraid if he gets too close he’ll get pregnant too.
Yanking open the door, I charge to the stairwell and down the stairs. I feel my legs buckling under me and I rapidly search for the railing to steady myself. Shaking, I glance up the stairs to see if he saw what almost happened, and he’s not there. He didn’t even bother to come after me. I could have fallen down the stairs and lost the b—
I stop myself as the horror of the idea rushes into my mind like the bursting of a dam. It’s then that I imagine his probable relief if I would have fallen. I guess I should feel fortunate he didn’t push me himself. He might as well have. I feel like I’m falling down a hole. I’m alone and it’s dark.
I STAND IN the street and lean on the passenger-side door as I stare at my Grandmother Kay’s house. After my last class today, I made the hour drive home. I didn’t tell her I was coming because I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. I almost turned around at least ten times. My hands shake as I chew the nail of my thumb. I almost always keep my nails polished and filed into a square, but as I glance down at them, I see only nubs and broken slivers of my pink polish. I chewed off every single nail on the drive after I ran out of Twizzlers.
I lift my cell phone from my back pocket and scroll through my texts. Nothing… not a single text or call from Mike since I spoke with him three days ago. My roommate and best friend, Gwen, knows something is wrong. I just can’t bring myself to tell her. Gwen and I were friends during high school, but it wasn’t until the end of senior year that we became best friends. We have so many things in common it’s ridiculous. When we both decided on nursing as our major, becoming roomies in college was a no-brainer.
I close my eyes and take a steadying breath. The sun is setting in the distance and the cool fall breeze adds to the chill of impending doom I already feel in my bones. I’ve been shaking since I found out I was pregnant, but I’m certain it became worse when I turned down her street. The cool breeze just gives me more of an excuse to wrap my arms around myself.
The sidewalk leading to the house seems longer than I recall. My eyes ascend, and I stare at her red front door. A smile lifts the corner of my mouth as I remember helping her paint it after I broke up with my first boyfriend, Nick, when I was a senior in high school. Grandma Kay said painting it would help take my mind off my shattered heart.
Memories of Nick flood my mind. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Our first date was set up by my friend Amy, who was dating Nick’s best friend, Cooper. He was only in town for the weekend and went to school three states away in Wisconsin. He was twenty-one and I was seventeen. I figured he wouldn’t be interested, but I was wrong. I almost smile when I remember how my heart constricted at the first sight of his hazel eyes and dazzling smile.
I refocus on the red door. I shake my head at myself. I was so afraid to sleep with Nick because I thought I’d get pregnant. Now, here I am, just a couple years later, pregnant by Mike with nowhere to go. There’s poetic justice. Fuck me.
My stomach twists and my hand returns to my mouth. When I realize there are no more nails left to chew, I start picking off the polish. I can’t do it. I need more time to think. I haven’t even figured out what I’m going to say to her.
As I hurry around my car, I hear the screech of tires. A fire-red Mustang whips around the corner. I’m pretty sure the driver misses the stop sign. He’s going too fast to have seen it. What an idiot, I think to myself. Imagine my surprise when the passenger focuses into view. The driver stops suddenly at the end of my grandmother
’s driveway. I watch her lean over and place a swift kiss on the lips of the driver, who is at least twenty years her junior. I blush as my head falls and I laugh to myself. Grandma Kay isn’t your typical grandmother.
“Hey, songbird!” she hums as she leaps out of the car. “Did we have plans this weekend? My mind isn’t quite what it used to be.” She flies over to me and pulls my chest to hers for a quick hug before lifting my chin to examine my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asks with a frown. I have this problem with looking people in the eyes when I’m upset or afraid. She immediately knows something isn’t right when I can’t meet her gaze.
The horn honks behind her as the window zips down. “Same time next week, Kaylynn?” the driver asks with a toothy grin.
“Yeah, yeah…” She waves him off nonchalantly as she intertwines her arm in mine and we make the walk to her steps.
As the Mustang speeds away, the red door of her home, my home, comes more clearly into view. The paint is starting to fade and chip away, maybe from the sun blaring down on it, but more than likely because I didn’t do a great job the last time. “I think we need to paint your door, Grandma,” I murmur.
Her eyes wash over the door then me. “If we’re painting that door, that must mean your heart needs some fixing.”
I close my eyes. I need to get this over with. “I have to tell you something, but before I do, I want you to promise me that you won’t hate me or be disappointed in me because I can promise you that I feel enough of that toward myself for the both of us.”
She squares me to face her as my shoulder-length dark-brown hair flits across my face from the breeze.
“There is nothing, nothing, you could ever do to make me hate you or feel disappointed in you, Ev. You’re my baby girl and you always will be. Now just tell me. God gave you a mouth so you could spill your secrets and me a heart so I could listen. He gave us both hands so we could fix those problems and a big old door to paint to make things right. Now tell me what’s got you so afraid.”
Enough Page 1
