(Um…are we sure about the C.W. Oliver bit?)
Whatever emotional turmoil I was putting myself through in contemplating my next move, I knew that I felt like a prisoner in my own home at that moment. My clothes were in suitcases, I had nothing holding me back, and the only thing separating me from the two people who honestly cared, Trina and Charlie, was about twelve hours in the car. To be honest, that seemed like a tiny obstacle. If I left Richmond at the crack of dawn, I could be in St. Louis by dinner time.
So, mind made up, I packed my makeup, toiletries, and electronics, set my alarm for three-thirty in the morning, and waited.
-§-
It was a little after seven o’clock in the evening when I finally pulled into the drive of the modest brick house the next day. I was tired and my back hurt, but I managed to make my escape without anyone noticing, so it was worth it in the end. I pulled my biggest suitcase along the sidewalk behind me and had my laptop bag looped across my chest. About thirty seconds after I rang the bell, I saw the curtains move back a little, and then I heard a squeal. The door swung open wide and I saw my friend, my sister-in-law, with a huge smile across her face. She was wearing black cargo pants and a blue t-shirt stretched tight across her pregnant frame, her long brown hair hanging in loose curls around her face. She was such a welcome sight, I completely forgot about being tired and sore.
“Cammie’s here!” Trina yelled over her shoulder. “Oh my goodness, I am so happy to see you. What on earth are you doing here?” She grabbed me and hugged me tight.
“You know me,” I shrugged, “just having a great big adventure, as usual. Look at you! You are about as cute as can be.”
She leaned back and put her hand on her abdomen, rolling her eyes.
“Five more weeks! I feel as big as a house,” she laughed. “I know it’s only going to get worse.”
“I thought she was joking,” Charlie said, walking up behind Trina. “You really are here! What did you do, drive all day?” I smiled up at Charlie’s familiar face, with his sandy blonde hair spiked a little in the front and a few faint scattered freckles across his nose.
“Something like that,” I said. He reached out and tugged on my hair. Brotherly love – in this house it usually meant I got knocked down, shoved against a wall, or smothered with a pillow.
“Are you ever going to grow up?” I teased him. He winked and leaned down to hug me.
“I will when you do, how’s that?” he asked. I gave him an eye roll as he released me, and then I started to drag my suitcase through the doorway.
“I hope you’re not headed to your old room,” Trina said. “We made it into the nursery.” I stopped dead in my tracks and sighed.
“So you really are moving on without me, then,” I moaned. “Where will I go now?”
“Well, for starters, you can use the couch,” Trina said, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “After that, I’m sure your beautiful life will drag you away from us too soon, and you won’t even want to be here anymore.”
Huh, beautiful life! I almost laughed out loud.
“I will let Cam tell you all about her beautiful life,” Charlie said, kissing Trina on her forehead. “I’m missing the game.”
“Can’t miss the game!” she called after him as he walked away. “Seriously, I hope there isn’t a baseball game on while I’m delivering the baby. What will he do then?”
“Watch it over your shoulder,” I said with a giggle. I shoved my suitcase against a wall, leaned my laptop bag against it, and followed her into the kitchen.
It was funny how things changed. Even though this was Grandma’s house, it didn’t smell or look like I remembered. Everything had been painted, modernized, upgraded, or remodeled. An entire childhood, glossed over with new appliances. It made me sad, almost defensive for her memory, even though I probably would have made the same changes myself.
“I’m so glad the remodeling is finished,” Trina remarked, as though reading my mind. “I can’t imagine the little guy being here with all that noise and dust.” She pulled open a cabinet and reached for two glasses, handing one to me. I motioned for her to give me the other one, and I opened the refrigerator, where I saw mostly yogurt and fruit.
“What happened to milk and Oreo cookies?” I asked, causing her to laugh.
“I’m trying to be healthy,” she explained.
“Juice it is,” I said, pulling it out so I could pour both of us a glass. Things were changing more than I imagined. “Have you come up with a name yet?”
“No, we haven’t decided. Is that terrible?”
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “You are talking about something that will define the little guy for his entire life. I can’t even decide which shoes to put on in the morning!”
“True enough!” she laughed. “Do you want to see the nursery?”
I followed her to my old bedroom, that comfortable sanctuary where I dreamed a million dreams and imagined a future of unordinary pursuits. When I occupied the room, it had been crammed with bookcases where I had been amassing my own private library, and the walls had been covered with places I visualized myself traveling. Grandma always told me my future was only as small as my imagination, so I had let it run wild.
Now, that same room housed a wooden crib, changing table, and rocking chair. The walls were painted red at the bottom and white at the top, separated by a baseball wallpaper border. There were large pictures of current St. Louis Cardinals players on one wall, and a big baseball diamond along another where Trina said she would eventually paint the baby’s name. She asked me what I thought, and I told her the Cardinals probably wanted their locker room back. She rolled her eyes, blamed the decorating on Charlie, and then opened the closet to show me some of the little guy’s outfits. I couldn’t help but notice that the kid already had several pairs of sneakers. What would he do with those, when he wouldn’t even be walking? I decided against saying anything about shoes when I had quite a collection of them myself.
After going through each of his outfits one by one (yes, that really happened), I followed Trina back to the kitchen, where she sat at the table and rubbed her lower back.
“So, why are you here, really?” she asked. “And tell me the truth, I can read you like a book you know.” I sat down across from her and put my hand against my forehead.
“Chaos found me, and I ran,” I said simply.
“This isn’t about that video I hope,” she said. “It was embarrassing, sure, but those things are a dime a dozen anymore.”
“True,” I said, spinning my juice glass around in my hands.
“And you said you talked it out with Peter,” she smirked.
“Had it out with Peter is more like it,” I laughed, “although he didn’t get many words into that conversation.”
“I know you well enough to believe that,” she giggled. “Poor Peter – he had no idea what he was getting himself into. You are always more feisty after the dust settles.”
“Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms, “forgive me if I don’t join in your chorus about poor Peter. Because of ‘poor Peter,’ one of my neighbors gave my name to the local news station so they could run that horrible video and completely ruin my life. Then they ambushed me in my apartment, people were leaving notes on my car... Oh, and one of my weird neighbors even used it as an excuse to hit on me.”
“Oh, Cam, you are always so melodramatic,” she giggled, “but that’s one of the things I love about you.”
“Well, I’m glad someone loves me,” I sighed. “I hope the little peanut will love me, since I now have nowhere to sleep.”
Trina shook her head at me, clearly not affected by my guilt trip. This is what happened when my best friend married my brother – I lost all my leverage on both sides. I could no longer talk Trina into anything, and Charlie was now too busy worrying about Trina to bother with his little sister.
“I’m sure he will love his Aunt Cammie,” Trina stated, pushing her hai
r over her shoulder.
I caught myself imagining what the baby would look like, a mash-up between Trina and Charlie, and I couldn’t come up with any scenario where he didn’t look like a crazy alien specimen.
“So are you still on the bestseller list?” Trina asked, pulling me back from outer space.
“Yes, can you believe it?” I smiled. “It’s been really exciting, but now I feel like there is a lot of pressure on me with this next one.”
“By the way, I so wish I could tell someone,” Trina lamented. “Do you know how hard it is to know that your best friend is a best-selling author and not tell anyone? One of the ladies from our church group told me the other day that I should read the new book about Martha Washington, by C.W. something or other. It was so hard to keep my mouth shut. You are killing me here! I have stood by you all this time, and now I need my bragging rights.”
“Maybe someday,” I said, looking down at my glass. Trina always thought it was strange that I used a pen name, but the more time passed, the more brilliant the idea seemed. At this point, giving it up didn’t even seem like an option.
“You are a successful writer. Do you know how much more respect that would gain you in your personal life?” She pushed her chair back and walked to the sink, rinsing out her glass.
“Would it?” I asked. “Being C.W. Oliver is the only reason I am successful. Can you imagine if that stupid video had shown on the news, and the media figured out that I had a book on the bestseller list? My professional life would become a disaster, just like my personal one.”
Trina sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. I thought to myself that I must have truly come down in the world, if Trina was starting to be motherly to me. Maybe she thought of me as a “little sister” now, just like Charlie.
“You want a better life,” she told me, “I think you need to give up the name.” I sat there staring at the newly painted texture of the sunny yellow wall across from me. Baseballs, lemons, and shiny black flat screens had taken over my grandma’s lovely old fashioned home. It was an affront, really, wasn’t it?
“Cam, I love you, but just think about this for a moment. You’re always in new towns with new people. You don’t have a normal nine-to-five job. You go around every day doing research and sitting behind your laptop. You force yourself to be cryptic about so many things. Don’t you wonder why you never make any friends? Why you haven’t met a guy you really like? You want so badly for your pretend self to be respected that you force your actual self to be alone. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Each word she said hit my heart like a wave pounding against a rock, and it hurt. Had they been said by anyone other than Trina, I might have walked out of the room, but she wasn’t telling me anything I hadn’t told myself a hundred times before. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, so I concentrated harder on that lemony hue in front of me.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. She squeezed my shoulders and stood up.
“Move back here,” she suggested. “Little peanut needs his auntie and we would love to have you here on a more regular basis. We miss you, you know.”
“I know,” I said, taking a deep breath, wiping my eyes, and standing up. “I just wish this place didn’t make me so sad. I still expect her to come walking around the corner every time I’m here.”
I paused a moment, staring at the new black stove, imagining Grandma standing there in front of the old olive green version.
“If she were here, she would want you to be happy,” Trina said simply.
“If she were here, she would tell me to go watch the game,” I laughed.
“What can I say?” Trina giggled. “You are definitely my husband’s little sister.”
Chapter Two
I didn’t sleep well that night, partly because I kept thinking about what Trina said, and partly because sleeping on the couch was like having a blanket thrown over three strategically placed boulders. I was up and around before the sun, brewing coffee and staring out the kitchen window. It is true what they say, that you can’t go back again. This was the place I grew up, the only home I ever knew, but it wasn’t home now. It was almost as if the house was a shadow that existed only in my memory, and even though I was standing inside, it wasn’t quite real. Maybe it was just me being melodramatic, but if this wasn’t home, I didn’t know if any place ever could be home again. That’s where I was, lost in my thoughts staring out at an old oak tree, when I heard a noise behind me.
“I knew I smelled coffee!” Charlie whispered. “Trina won’t let me have caffeine. Quick, pour me a cup before she wakes up.”
“Shame on you, Charlie,” I scolded him. “I should tell her.” I retrieved a cup from the cabinet, prepared his coffee, and handed it to him as he sat down at the table.
“You tell her and I’ll kick you out,” he teased, as I yawned and rubbed my eyes.
“Why are you up so early, anyway?” I asked. He laughed and shook his head at me.
“It’s Monday, Cam. Some of us have to go to work.”
“Oh, I guess I have my days mixed up again,” I explained, resting my back against the newly textured wall.
“What do you think of the house?” he wanted to know. “You seem a little shell-shocked.” I took a deep breath.
“It’s…really great.” I lowered myself into a chair across from him and wrapped my hands around my coffee.
“For some reason I don’t quite believe you mean that,” he said with a smirk, setting down his cup. “We couldn’t leave it the way it was forever.”
“I know, I really do,” I told him earnestly. “It honestly looks beautiful, and it’s none of my business anyway, even if it was horrible. It’s just…she’s really gone now, you know?”
What is with me all of a sudden with these emotional meltdowns? I should have never come to Grandma’s house – what was I thinking?
I stared at the table willing myself to be a little stronger.
“No, I don’t think she’s ever really gone for me, and she isn’t for you either,” he said quietly, “but you can’t live in the past, Camdyn. You’ve got to join the living once in a while.”
“That’s easy for you to say. My life depends on the past,” I said jokingly, folding my arms across my chest.
“I’m not talking about your books, and you know it,” he said, smiling sadly. “I worry about you, being by yourself and flitting around from place to place. I just don’t want you to end up like…”
My eyes locked on his and I felt my breath catch in my chest.
“Don’t even say it, Charlie.” It’s not true, I’m not like Mom. Not one bit.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You know I want what’s best for you. You’ve changed zip codes more times since Grandma died than most people do in a lifetime.”
“For my work…”
“No, that doesn’t fly with me. You can do a lot of your research from your living room, if you even had one. Trina would really like it if you moved back to town, and I think it would be good for you.”
“So you’re ganging up on me now,” I sighed.
“Of course not,” Charlie said, drumming his fingers against the table. “It’s just…it would be nice to know that you came here while you were making a life, instead of running from one you didn’t want.”
Good ole Charlie. His gravestone would probably say that he was an esteemed pharmacist, incredible husband, perfect brother, and great lover of baseball - nothing bad about Charlie.
“I wish I could find a reason to stay somewhere… anywhere,” I told him, eyes brimming with tears. “I just can’t find where I belong, if that makes sense.”
“It will happen,” he stated, reaching over to tug on my hair like he did a million times when we were kids. “Just make sure you stand and fight when it does. No running away. And for goodness sake, the next time you go out with a guy you don’t like, dump him right away, before he works
up the nerve to propose.”
“You are rotten!” I chuckled, swatting at him across the table. He leaned away from me and ducked, but straightened up when we heard a loud gasp.
“Charlie Taylor! What are you drinking?!” He looked across the table at me with wide eyes.
“Take my advice, Charlie,” I said with a laugh. “Run!”
-§-
After Charlie left for work, I took a long shower and then stood in the bathroom for a while, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I found myself wondering what Grandma would think of me. It had been four years since she passed away, and while in many ways it felt like only yesterday, sometimes it felt like another lifetime. I still remembered the conversation we had just nights before it happened. We were sitting together in her living room, and she told me she was tired all the time, but life wasn’t going to wear her out. She was going to live it until there was nothing left. I mentioned that things could have been easier had it not been for my mom. She just smiled and shook her head, telling me she wouldn’t trade a minute of her life.
“Your mom was a beautiful, sweet girl,” she had told me, “but after she married my David she was like a little bird in a cage. She was never happy in the moment she was in – always looking forward to the next thing. When your daddy passed away, it was as though the cage door was left open. And even though she came back a few times, I always knew one day she would be gone for good.”
It was incredibly selfish, I told Grandma then. She lovingly patted my hand and said she never really thought of it that way, because she had been selfish, too. I remember thinking how strange it was for her to say that, because I knew how incredibly selfless she was, and how much of her own life she had given for Charlie and me.
I didn’t know how to respond for a moment, because I thought maybe she had made a mistake, but she finally explained. “I always knew where your mother was. I could have pursued her and you could have been a family the way you should have, but I didn’t. You were all I had left of David, and I didn’t want to lose you and Charlie too.”
A Reason to Run (The Camdyn Series Book 1) Page 2
