by Marchman, AC
I roll my eyes, not really ready to talk about it again, but I tell her anyways; the exact same speech I gave Livey.
“Well, like I’ve always told you, you shouldn’t run from your problems. You have to face them at some point, because they will just follow you where you go.” I hate when she’s right.
“Yeah, I’m aware of that. I just can’t face them right now. Matt lied to me so much, now Donovan. My heart can’t take much more of this.” I lose my voice on the last few words, trying to choke back the raw feeling in my throat. Having to deal with two major betrayals is more than I can handle. “So, anyways, how’s work?” I guess I’ll try Donovan’s distraction method; it always works on me.
“Okay, I suppose. Do you love him?” She turns her head to glance at me.
“Ah, never one to miss a beat, are you, Mom?” There’s no way for getting around this. “Yes, I think I do.”
“You think? Or do you know?” She pulls into her driveway and kills the engine. She turns, giving me an ‘I’m waiting’ look.
“I know I do, and that’s why this is so damn hard to deal with.” I run my fingers through my tangled hair. “I wouldn’t hurt this bad, if I didn’t love him. It’s funny, because when Matt used to lie and cheat, it didn’t bother me as much as this does.”
Mom places her delicate hand on my shoulder. “Look, baby girl, I know it hurts. But my mother always told me you hurt the ones you love the most. Keep that in mind, okay?”
I nod, suddenly feeling tired and wanting to go lay down in my old bed. “I think I’m just gonna go to sleep, Mom. I’m going to call Mrs. Anderson in the morning to see if I can visit Jackson.”
“Good idea. You go inside and I’ll get your bag.” She hands me the keys and I go unlock the door to my childhood home. Mom has kept it in great condition, even after Dad passed away. I flip the light switch and everything is just like I remember it. The living room is done in a country motif, complete with a jelly cabinet and the wooden rooster my dad carved with me when I was little. The colors haven’t changed either; a blue and white checkered couch and loveseat, the old wooden coffee table and Dad’s old recliner. I’m so glad she didn’t get rid of that. As much as she hated it, she still left it here. I take a seat and prop my feet up, and I swear I can feel Dad’s presence. It comforts me as I run my fingertips along the worn leather. Mom walks in and stops in her tracks.
“I miss him so much.” She tears up and I rush to her side. I cradle her in my arms, just as she had done to me earlier.
“I do, too. I do, too,” I whisper as I rock her back and forth. We stand in silence in my old living room, just holding each other and I already feel like I made the right decision to come home, even if it’s just for a week. After a couple of minutes, I release her and dry her tears with my thumbs. “Hey, wait a minute. I thought you were the mom here.” I try to make her laugh, because if I don’t, she’ll cry again. It works and she lets out a chuckle.
“Well, daughter dear, you should go to bed. You’ve had a long day and so have I. So, good night. I love you.” She kisses my forehead, then walks back to her room. I guess you never really stop being a mom, no matter how old your kids get. I stretch my arms above my head and walk down the hallway to my old room.
Mom kept it exactly the same as when I left. My favorite colors has always been blue and purple, so my curtains, bedspread, and sheets are all lilac while my walls are painted a light cornflower blue. She didn’t even take down my posters of Robert Patterson. That’s one the agenda for me tomorrow: take down posters and not seem like a teenage girl with a celebrity crush. Actually, I’m a grown girl with a somewhat celebrity crush. I strip out of my clothes and head into the shower. I have to wash this day away and watch it go down the drain.
After my shower, I slip into my Victoria Secret pajamas and pull out my phone. More missed calls, but none after ten. Hmm, guess he got the point for the night. I check my email and I got my schedule for PA school. I’ll look at it later; I just want to sleep. I crawl under my purple comforter and drift into a restless slumber; my dreams plagued by visions of Frankie’s face telling me my boyfriend is a lying dirt-bag and Donovan begging for my forgiveness.
Chapter 25
I wake the next morning feeling twice as tired then I was the night before. I rub my eyes, sit up and drag my sleepy butt to the bathroom. The girl staring back at me looks like death warmed over, not the young twenty-three year old soon to a PA student. It almost makes me want to send my fist through the glass and watch it shatter, just like my heart did yesterday.
I really thought the pain would have lessened up just a little bit, but it actually seems worse today. It was the first night in awhile that I’ve spent away from Donovan. I’ve gotten so used to him sleeping next to me, being there to hold me. I miss the feel of his body against mine, and it’s not just sexual. Just his touch is enough half the time. I shake my head, trying to move him to the back of my brain.
“Allie, he’s just a guy. Either you give him another chance or stop moping around here like some lost little puppy dog,” I say out loud. As soon as I’m done talking to myself, I call Mrs. Anderson. I find her number in my contacts lists, so I just hit dial and wait for her to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Anderson, it’s Allie Marshall. I’m wondering if it would be okay if I came to pick up Jackson. I really miss him and since I’m back in town, I was wondering if I could take him to the park or something.”
“Of course you can. You know that you can see him whenever you want. And please, how many times have I told you to call me Mary?”
I laugh. “Okay, Mary. I’ll be there in about an hour, so at around eleven. Thank you.”
We hang up and I start getting ready to spend the day with my kid. I think it takes me twice as long to look good for a play-date with Jackson then it does when I go out with Donovan. I catch Mom on the way out; she’s planting flowers or bushes, or...hell, I don’t know, but she’s digging in the dirt.
“Hey, I’m going to get Jackson. Did you want to come?”
“No, I’m kind of dirty, but you can bring him by here and I’ll make us some lunch. I want to see the little guy.”
I nod, give her a quick peck on the cheek and walk down a few houses to the Anderson's. Their house is modest, but well kept and clean. Mary is retired from the post office. so she’s home during the day with Jackson. Mr. Anderson was a teacher at my old middle school, but he still works part time as a sub. They are an older couple that could never have children. They did take in foster children for a long time and their hearts were so big with a lot of love to give. I knew from the moment I met them that they would be good parents for my son.
I knock on the door and Mary answers within a minute.
“Hi, sweetheart. Please come inside.” She smiles from ear to ear and opens the door wider to let me in. Her hair is a pretty shade of silver, that hangs just below her shoulders. She’s a short woman, but is solid as a rock. Her gray eyes match her hair and to be sixty-five, she certainly looks good for her age Her t-shirt says, They went to Vegas and all I got was this lousy shirt. “Jackson is in his playroom.”
“Thank you, Mary.” Her smile is infectious, so I can’t help but to return it. I walk off down the hall. I peep around the corner and watch my son play for a few minutes.
“No, no, no! You’re doing it wrong! Do it like this.” He is apparently angry with one of his toys that is doing whatever it is wrong. “Look, you hike and then I throw you the football. It’s easy.” He turns to catch an imaginary football and takes off to the other side of his room. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He crosses his tiny arms across his chest and stares down a life-size teddy bear.
“Jackson?”
“Momma!” He sees me in the doorway, then runs to grab ahold of my legs. I rub his sweet head. I bend down to give my little man a big hug. He looks more like me than Matt, thank goodness. His hair has lightened up, so it’s not black anymore and closer to my
color. His eyes match my own and he has my nose and mouth. I swear, he’s like my mini twin.
”What do you want to do today?” I cup his face in my hands and stare at my adorable four year old. Right then and there, I thank the Lord above that I found a family that is willing to let me be a part of his life.
“Monster truck rally?” His expressive green eyes shine back at me and I let a giggle slip through my lips.
“I don’t think there are any monster truck rallies going on today. How about the park instead?”
“Can I go on the slide? All by myself?” Ah, Mr. Independent.
“Absolutely. Grab your shoes and let’s go.” I take his little hand in mine and we walk to the front door. He slips on his Thomas the Tank Engine Velcro shoes, on the correct feet, all by himself. “Hey, do you mind not growing up so fast?” I poke his side and he squeals. We say bye to Mary and walk the half mile to the neighborhood playground.
As we walk hand in hand, we talk about his friends, his dog, and his parents. It’s nice to feel so carefree with Jackson. All the pent up sadness and anger that I feel right now is pushed aside so I can just hang out with my son. When we reach the park, there is another couple with their daughter and I see Jackson’s face light up. “Oh, do you know her?” I ask with a sly grin on my face.
“That’s Kara. She’s in my class at church.” His little cheeks flush, just like mine do; he’s adorable.
“Uh huh, is she your girlfriend?”
“Eww! No way. Girls are gross. Well, except you and Mommy.” This disgusted looks breaks out on his angel face and I can’t help but to laugh.
“Good answer. Let’s keep it that way/”
We ran and play, climb and swing. There’s no one else but us in our own little world. We get dirty, play in the sand, and make up a game or two. After two hours or so, we decide to go grab some lunch at Mom’s house.
When we get there, I notice a strange car in the drive. It’s a silver Maxima. Does Mom have company? Then I wonder if it’s Donovan. Would he actually come up here? Wait, no, he doesn’t even know I’m here. I have no idea who this could be, until I realize the person is still in the car. I stop right where we stand and Jackson looks up at me, concerned.
“What’s wrong, Momma? Who is that?”
Matt Bowman steps out of the driver’s side and I have to remember to breath. Jackson asks me again, “Who is that?”
“I’m your daddy, bud.”
“Jackson, will you go inside with your grandma please? I need to talk to this guy, alone.” I give him a gentle shove towards the door when I see Mom standing there, staring Matt down like she wants to kill him. Which might actually happen if I don’t get him off this property right now.
“Momma, he’s my daddy?” I say nothing. My son stops to look at him and cocks his head to the side. “You’re not my daddy. I don’t even know you.” He runs towards Mom and she picks him up to carry him inside, fast. I turn to face Matt and I see he looks heartbroken. Probably because of the fact his flesh and blood doesn’t know who the hell he is.
“What are you doing here? How the hell did you know I was here?” I start towards him, my fists formed in tight balls by my side. “Who do you think you are?”
He holds his hands in defense. I get a good look at him, seeing that he hasn’t changed whatsoever. He’s still as good looking as ever, black hair and brown eyes. He looks a little more toned since last I saw him. Not that any of that matters, because I want to know what’s going on. “Hi, Allie. Nice to see you, too.” He smiles, but then it fades when I don’t return it. “Look, I came by to talk to you.”
“Again, how did you know I was here?” I demand through my clenched teeth. I’m standing no more than five feet away from the guy I never wanted to see again. But yet, here we are; standing in my mom’s front yard and my anger is coming to a peak.
Matt exhales and looks at the ground. “I saw on your brother’s Facebook that you were coming home. He posted it on his status.”
Mom must have told Jon I was coming in. Oh my God. “Are you stalking me? Are you stalking my entire family? Jon can’t even stand you, let alone be friends with you.” I can’t stop shaking. The last two days have been enough to break me and I feel like I’m losing my mind.
He takes a small step towards me with his hand reached out. I immediately take a step back to try to put some distance between us. This is becoming a bad situation that’s about to get worse. “Look, I’ll be honest. Ever since, well, since we stopped speaking, I have regretted everything I’ve ever done to you. I know how you must feel about me, and I can’t say I blame you.” He drops his hand after realizing I’m not touching him. “I had to come see for myself to find out if you still had feelings for me at all. I still love you, Allie. I always have.”
“Oh, and you couldn’t tell me this before you got me pregnant and decided to stop talking to me?” I turn away from him, not wanting him to ever see me cry again. The tears start to swell up, but I blink them away. I’m so pissed off right now, I can’t think straight. The person I think of is Donovan and how he always calms me down when I get this way.
Damnit! Stop thinking about him right now.
“I didn’t really get the chance to talk to you again. Your dad put a stop to that, not me. I wanted you, me, and Jackson to be a family. I really did, until I was slapped with a statutory rape charge and couldn’t see you anymore period.”
“Well, it is what it is, Matthew. I can’t change the past. Besides, Jackson has a family that adores him and I’m glad I made the decision I did. You were no position to take care of a baby then I was. I’m just thankful the Anderson’s let me see him like they do.” I spin back around to find him standing almost right in front of me. I point my index finger directly into his chest. “Back. Up.”
“I know you can’t change the past. I get that, but don’t you feel anything for me anymore? At all?” His brown eyes stare at me and I have to turn my head. I will not be caught up in this with him. I can’t allow him to hurt me again.
“I only have unfinished business with you and that was to make it official. It’s over, Matt. It’s been over for a long time, and I don’t know why you can’t accept that.” I find the resolve I thought my body had deprived me of. “I don’t want to see you anymore, at all. Got it?”
He looks dejected, which he should. He screwed me over so bad and I want him to feel just a fraction of the pain I have gone through because of him. “I’m really sorry, Allie. I don’t know what else I can say. I just have one request, before I get out of your life for good.”
“And what is that?”
Before he answers me, he grabs me by the arms and crushes his lips to mine. His tongue tries to part my lips as he presses me close to his body. My body stiffens, shocked that he would even try something like this. Then memories flood over me that Donovan hurt me, way more than Matt ever has. As sick and twisted as it may be, I start to kiss him back. Not for my own personal pleasure, but at least I feel like I’m getting back at Donovan for all the pain he’s caused. I don’t wrap my arms around him like I used to, but I act like I’m enjoying it. It’s bad to lead Matt on this way, but right now, it doesn’t matter. I don’t love him, and I don’t plan on seeing him again. I pull away and look at him deadpan.
“Well? Anything?” He sounds breathless, his face flushed and a cocky ass smirk on his face.
“Nope, nothing at all.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. That’s when I hear tires skid to a stop behind Matt’s truck. We both look and I see it’s Donovan’s silver BMW. He jumps out the car, wearing khaki shorts and a white t-shirt, looking as sexy as ever. It’s his face that I notice first, and it’s contorted into one pissed off glare, right at Matt.
Oh, shit. This is bad. This is really bad.
My mind is racing. Matt turns to face Donovan, his arms crossed over his chest. “Who the hell are you?”
“Uhh...,” is all I can get out, my brain refusing to function and my mouth failing to
form words. This is before Donovan shoves him as hard as he can to the ground and screams, “I’m her boyfriend! And keep your fucking mouth off her. ”
Chapter 26
Donovan
My heart races as I look at this bastard on the ground in front of me. I look at Allie, a look of terror on her face. I don’t know if it’s from me rolling up to kick this dude’s ass or the fact that he had his tongue shoved down her throat. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.
The guy, who I am assuming is no one other than Matt Bowman, is getting up and looking extremely angry.
Oh, it’s on, dude. Bring it.
He gets to his feet, obviously a bit off balance. He takes a swing at me and misses as I move too fast for him. He takes another punch and gets me in the gut. It knocks the wind out of me; I’m vaguely aware that Allie is trying to pull us apart. She starts yelling, “Break it up! Stop it! Both of you!”
Not happening, sweetheart.
