And now here we are today, sitting in a diner like we have been friends for years, Penelope thought, incredulously. It was a strange thought indeed. Since their first encounter, the three women had met for lunch on three separate occasions. Oddly enough, with the exception of the first night, they still never discussed the elephant in the room: Michael.
“So, how did it go at the shooting range?” Violet asked, interrupting Penelope’s line of thought.
“Yeah,” Lexi chirped in, “did Stiffley get a stiffy over your shooting skills?” she joked.
Penelope chuckled. “He is pretty handsome, I must admit, but not as handsome as…” she did not finish the sentence. She didn’t have to. “And in fact,” she said instead, “I actually hit the bull’s-eye today!”
“Impressive!” Violet cheered, clapping her hands together. “Remind me never to piss you off.” Violet then paused, realizing how silly she sounded. She had, in fact, pissed off Penelope Pinkerton on a couple of occasions. And with that said, all three women burst into a fit of giggles.
They were such an odd pairing, really, but somehow, it made sense among them. The waitress returned for their food orders, and each woman ordered a different dish: a light chicken salad for Penelope, a hamburger for Lexi, and a ribeye for Violet.
After paying their bill, they stepped out of Jay’s Diner only to be met with a torrential downpour. They found a roomy space under the dusty grey awning, and Violet and Lexi lit cigarettes.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Violet asked Penelope, using her hand to waft the pungent smoke in an opposite direction.
“Nah…I used to smoke, but I gave it up,” Penelope revealed with a shrug. “I used to love it…smoking, I mean…and sometimes it’s still hard to believe that I don’t. Sometimes the things you love the most are also the things that hurt you. And once you give them up, living without them seems impossible. But after a while…you just do,” Penelope said softly, and her words hung in the air as all three women stood there, silently huddled together against the rain.
“We should all quit,” Lexi said, and for an instant, perhaps they all realized they were no longer talking about cigarettes.
“Okay,” Violet broke in, “I have an idea I want to run by you, Lexi. And just hear me out…” Lexi raised her eyebrows. “So, I was thinking maybe you could put some of your stripper skills to good use.”
Lexi frowned.
“Wait. You said you were going to hear me out,” Violet whined.
“Okay, I’m listening,” Lexi said, chuckling at her friend’s persistence.
“So, what if you offered a stripper class for the women in this town?” Penelope snorted, and Lexi continued to frown. “I’m serious!” Violet said.
“I seriously doubt there are any aspiring strippers in this town,” Lexi pointed out.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Violet assured her. “I’m talking about doing some sort of stripper-cise class instead of aerobics or going to the gym. The idea of it may be a little unorthodox around here, but that is exactly why I think people will come check it out to begin with. I’m not trying to undermine your other skills, Lexi, I just think that you should try to capitalize on your athleticism and dancing abilities. The other night you told me that even as a young girl you loved to dance.”
“I would join a class like that,” Penelope spoke up, “if dancing like a stripper could make me have a body like yours. I would be willing to pay big bucks to join that club. Plus, I think it would be sort of fun—more fun than lifting weights or doing crunches.”
Lexi remained wordless, and she was chewing on her bottom lip.
Violet instantly looked regretful. “Lexi…”
“I love it!” Lexi squealed, reaching for her roommate and pulling her into a tight hug.
She pulled back. “But I don’t even have a building space to start up something like this…” Lexi said.
“I’ve already thought of that,” Violet said, wrapping an arm around her friend and flashing her brightest smile. “We’ll just use some of the unused space in my house! We can really make this work, Lexi!” The three of them squealed with joy at the plan for Lexi’s new business venture.
The excitement of the moment was interrupted by the sound of Penelope’s cell phone ringing. Violet continued to rattle on about all of their grand plans, but Lexi did not take her eyes off of Penelope.
Penelope’s face was ashen.
“What is it?” Violet asked, coming over to stand beside her.
“It’s Elijah. He was riding home with one of his school friends, and there was an accident. He’s at the hospital,” Penelope explained breathlessly. Penelope was trembling. She started to dig frantically for her keys, but Lexi was already running toward Violet’s Tracker. Violet and Penelope ran after her. Violet climbed in behind the wheel, and the other women climbed in through the passenger door.
“Lexi, I thought we agreed that you would wait to talk to Michael before trying to see Elijah,” Penelope said gently.
“Well, Michael’s not here for me to ask, now, is he?” Lexi snapped. “You’re his stepmother, and I’m going with you to make sure our son is okay,” she said, and she squeezed Penelope’s hand tightly in her own.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Violet was not a religious woman, but she closed her eyes and said a prayer anyway as she watched her two friends run through the double glass doors of Morton University Hospital. She did not go in. She had no reason to. She may have loved Michael, but his son was a stranger to her, and she had no business intruding at a time like this. She leaned against the brick side of the building. She would wait all night if she had to. She needed to know that this young man, who was so important to her friends and to Michael, was alive and well.
***
The first thing Penelope saw as she threw open the emergency room doors was her daughter pacing the floor in front of a hospital room. She ran to meet her and held her in an embrace. “He’s okay, Mom,” Angela whispered into her mother’s hair as she clutched her. Those words felt like a giant boulder being lifted from her palpitating heart.
She nodded to Lexi. “He’s okay,” she told her. Lexi collapsed to her knees. Angela looked at this woman, and then to her mother inquisitively, but there was no time for explanations. “We need to see him,” she said breathlessly, and she and Lexi slipped into the room hurriedly.
Elijah was sleeping peacefully. “It’s just the painkillers,” a nurse explained to them. “All he has is a broken collar bone. He’s one of the lucky ones. The medicine knocked him out cold, though,” she said and left them to be with their son.
His eyes fluttered, and the first words out of his mouth were, “Mom?” Neither woman moved, but then his eyes locked onto Penelope, and she rushed to be at his side. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, and she stroked his cheek tenderly.
***
Elijah looked down at the IV in his arm and then around the hospital room as though he were just now realizing what happened. His eyes passed over the dark-haired beauty in the doorway then stopped and returned to her again.
Lexi had imagined this moment so many times—him seeing her after all these years, and although she had dreamed of several different outcomes, she did not expect what happened next.
Her beautiful, softhearted, wise beyond his years son smiled brightly and reached out for her. Lexi didn’t hesitate. She ran to her son and held him like she might never let go. And this time around, she most certainly would not.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Michael Sinclair felt like the luckiest man in the world. The fact that his luggage was the first to emerge from the chute on the baggage carousel seemed to confirm it. He grabbed his suitcase and left the airport, making his way to the space where his Jeep Cherokee was parked.
Michael could not believe that an entire month had passed since his dramatic departure from Oaksdale. When he left, he’d been dazed and confused by his romantic options. He was engaged to Penelope, w
ho would make a superb wife and mother for any man, but then there was Violet, the young girl that he obsessed over as a youth; their passion was intense and fiery. Lastly, there was Lexi: his first true love and mother to his only son. He arrived in Chicago completely befuddled, and he had stayed that way until three short days ago when it all became crystal clear…
Michael had gone to Chicago for business, and that’s exactly what his trip consisted of: conference calls, board meetings, and lots of meaningless hand shaking. Perhaps if he were being honest with himself, he might admit that he relished having such a nonstop schedule, as it permitted him to avoid making a decision about whom he truly loved.
On his third to last day, his business was complete and, therefore, all distractions ceased, leaving him alone in a big city with an even bigger decision to make. He had opted to go sightseeing, which was totally out of character for him, but he enjoyed himself immensely that day. The day was absent of pressure and filled with faceless strangers, making him feel at ease for the first time in weeks.
He took a stroll through Wrigley Field, and he marveled at some exquisite works of art at the art and history museum. At the end of the day, he perched on the sky deck of the Willis Tower, and it was then that he knew. There was only one woman he wanted beside him.
Michael rolled down his windows and hummed along to a familiar tune as he coasted along Interstate 65. He could not wait to see her.
Michael was not happy about having to break the hearts of two others, but he was flying on cloud nine as he pushed the pedal harder, hurtling toward the woman of his dreams and ultimately their future together. He was excited to see her face when he told her, and all he wanted was to hold her close in his arms.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Today was the day Michael was supposed to meet Violet at the Filmont Inn, and as he made a sharp turn from Main Street, he was right on time. He jogged through the front entrance and addressed the young, freckled girl who was stationed at the front desk.
“A reservation for Violet Cromwell, please…or maybe…” Michael scratched his chin, “…it might be under my name, Michael Sinclair.” The girl barely glanced up from her iPhone, but she did hand him a key card. Room 206, how could he forget?
Michael took his time getting to the room, opting to take the stairs. He let out a deep breath, slid the card through the key reader, and stepped into the familiar room.
He was surprised to see that the beds were still made in a fashion one can only attribute to a seasoned maid service staff. Violet wasn’t there, and initially, he thought perchance she had yet to arrive, but then he noticed a cream-colored sheet of paper on the bed. He sat down to read her letter.
Dear Michael,
I have loved you since I was a little girl, but I am no longer a girl. When we are young, we live by the seat of our pants, and that makes life exciting, but as adults we must be resolute in our decisions, and I am resolute in mine. Our ship has sailed, Michael. There are two other beautiful women who love you, and I hope you make the right choice. You know how you rescued me that day when I was eleven? Well, my dear Michael, you rescued me again from a marriage that I did not belong in, from a life that was not mine. And for that, I will be forever grateful. I leave you with a brilliant quote from Robert James Waller:
“The old dreams were good dreams; they didn’t work out, but I’m glad I had them.”
Love always, Violet
There is something so uncanny about returning home after a long vacation. For a split second, everything inside your house seems unfamiliar and strange, and you may notice little things that you take for granted or fail to notice on a day-to-day basis. Time apart can do that; it makes you readjust your outlook from a different angle.
Michael experienced this exact feeling when he opened the front door of his and Penelope’s new home in Glenn Heights. Although he originally despised the cookie cutter design, he had to admit that it was genuinely stunning, and he admired Penelope’s ability to make the space look clean and sterile, but also homey and inviting. As he looked around at the pictures and decorations she had added, he noted her superb attention to detail. The house smelled so good; it was a familiar scent that he hadn’t noticed before—at least not consciously. God he missed her, and he missed this place they called their home.
The kids were in school and Penelope was not home, so he walked slowly around the empty space, enjoying the memories and avoiding the letter on the table. Her engagement ring was beside it, and he didn’t need to read it to know what it said, but he felt compelled to read her words.
Dear Michael,
I loved you. I still love you.
But I love myself more.
I deserve to be with someone who KNOWS that they want to be with me, and you deserve to be happy. Penelope
Michael’s eyes were so blurry with tears that he nearly missed her where she stood beside his Jeep—not Penelope but Lexi. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“Penelope told me when your flight was landing, and I know she went to work, so I was hoping to catch you here, in person,” Lexi said, and she reached up to wipe a tear from his face. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for leaving you and Elijah, and I know it will never be enough…” Michael began to speak, but she shushed him. “Please, Michael, I need to say this…sometimes I don’t think I was cut out for motherhood. I learned right away that taking care of a child requires a type of selflessness that I never saw in my own parents and never quite mastered myself. I didn’t think I could do it, so I ran like a coward. I used men and drugs to mask the pain: the pain of my childhood, the pain of my life in general. I can never take back what I did, but coming back here made me realize something…Elijah turned out just fine without me, just as I did, in spite of my own crappy upbringing. We are fighters, he and I. He’s a wonderful young man, and that’s to your credit, Michael. You made up for what I was lacking, and you did what I couldn’t, and I will love you forever because of that. I can’t change what has happened, but I can make changes right now, at this moment. Instead of focusing on trying to fix what we had, or create a love life for myself, I am going to do one thing, and one thing only, and that is focus on the most important man that ever walked into my life, and that is Elijah.”
Michael squeezed her tightly, and then watched her climb behind the wheel of the old, run-down Malibu. No longer did she resemble that helpless, homeless girl at the bus station in Reno. She was older now, and the weight of the world and her burdensome life were etched in the creases on her forehead and showed in her gait. Despite the fact that she looked older, there was an elegance in her step, and she had never seemed more exquisite to him. He would miss her, but he had grown accustomed to missing Lexi.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When her doorbell chimed, Violet anticipated a variety of possible visitors, but she was unprepared for the stranger on her doorstep. “I’m Lucas Middleton, and I used to live in this house,” he blurted out nervously. “I know this is a bizarre request, but I was hoping I could come inside…maybe look around and sort of say goodbye.”
Allowing a stranger into her home was definitely a big no-no in Violet’s book, but she opened her door for him anyway. It was a strange request, but somehow nothing seemed all that strange to Violet anymore these days. Violet and Lucas walked through the kitchen and down the corridor silently, and she observed as he examined the changes she had made to the house and seemingly took it all in.
“I had a stupid argument with my father,” he said abruptly. “I left for college the next day, and I never looked back…he was a difficult man, my father,” he continued, “but I sure did love him. I drove all the way from Arizona to visit his grave. I wish I would have come sooner, before my father…you know, died,” he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry for just showing up, but I wanted to see the house one last time.”
Lucas shook her hand and headed for the door. Violet hesitated but then asked, “Would
you like to stay for dinner?” She wasn’t sure why, but she liked this man, and the pain in his eyes was very real and somehow seemed endearing. She lit the gas stove and began cooking as he watched her from his seat at the table.
Violet did not know what the future held for her. Perhaps there would be many men and many moments just like this before she found the right one. Perhaps her search had nothing to do with love and more to do with finding her true self and learning how she fit into this world. As for now, she was content with not knowing and determined to just live in the moment.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“I told you I was good for it,” Lexi teased, holding out a wad of cash for her mechanic. The Malibu had a new tire and a tune-up, and she was ready to hit the open road. She and Elijah had flown back to her old town to pick up the Malibu, and they planned to drive it back to Oaksdale following the scenic route in order to spend more quality time together.
Elijah had recently obtained his drivers’ permit, and he was surprised when his mother tossed him the keys. “I don’t know, Mom,” he said apprehensively.
“Come on, let me teach you something,” she pleaded, and he smiled, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Before we leave town, I need you to make one stop,” Lexi told him. She gave him directions to her old apartment building and asked him to wait in the car.
Lexi knocked on her ex-neighbor’s door and was taken aback by the gorgeous hottie who opened it. He appeared to be in his early thirties with dark brown hair and greenish-gray eyes. “Are you Danny?” she inquired. When he confirmed who he was, she thanked him for saving her life.
This Is Not About Love Page 11