Raising Landry

by Andee Michelle

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Raising Landry

  Copyright © 2015 by Andee Michelle

  First Print Edition: May 2015

  Cover Design and Interior Formatting: Pink Ink Designs

  Editor: Hot Tree Editing

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, individuals, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my amazing husband George, who has supported every crazy idea I’ve ever had. After 21 years together, you still amaze me every day with your love and dedication to me and our boys. Thank you for giving me this circus. I love you big big!

  Sunday, August 1, 2009

  My reflection doesn’t show my nerves. It shows a young woman, dressed in a $25,000 Vera Wang wedding gown. It shows a woman full of confidence. Breath-taking. Beautiful. Perfect. My hair is the picture-perfect partial up-do, which accompanies my airbrushed, makeup artist completed face. I look like a princess. I feel like a princess. Today is my day. I look amazing, and I’m marrying the man of my dreams. I’m not sure this pep talk is working. I’m still freaking out on the inside.

  Chris and I met through our parents. Our fathers are partners in the law firm they started together. We connected instantly and have so much in common that it was inevitable that we’d end up together. Chris graduated from Tulane Law, passed the bar last year and is already an associate in our parents’ firm. As much as I love him, I’ve never had the courage to tell him that the law was not really my passion. I agreed to go on to law school, after I received my Bachelors in business and after way too many arguments with my parents. As always, my mother won and I applied to law school like a good little girl. I’m sure once Chris and I are married, we’ll start a family, and their expectations for me to be a lawyer in our dads’ firm will be put on the sidelines so we can give them grandchildren. We’ve been together for two years and are taking the obvious next step in getting married.

  Don’t get me wrong; I adore Chris. He’s my best friend and has been since the day we met. I love him with all of my heart. He’s sexy as hell: tall, athletic, dark hair and dark eyes. He looks killer in a suit. Not that I have anything to compare it to, but he’s good in bed. I mean, he has his moments that leave me breathless, but I’ve noticed lately those are far and few between. He’s under a lot of pressure at work, so I’m sure that has to do with his wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am or just not interested attitude lately. He loves me and gives me everything I could ever want.

  I’m marrying the best man for me; the man who can give me a beautiful, love-filled life. Chris loves me unconditionally and wants to spend his life making me happy.

  For some reason, my breathing becomes more and more erratic. I take a step out onto the balcony off the room I’m in. Fresh air will help. I’m sure it’s just my nerves at the idea of all those people staring at me when I walk down the aisle. I’ve never been a fan of overt attention, and my mother made sure pretty much everyone who is anyone is here, whether they know Chris and me or not.

  I walk to the edge and place my elbows on the railing, taking long, slow, deep breaths. I hear voices in the distance but don’t pay much attention. After a few minutes, I have my breathing under control and turn to walk back into my room, but I stop when I hear Chris’ raised voice.

  “I’ll tell her once we are back from our honeymoon!” Chris practically shouts.

  “Look, I know y’all think that not telling her until after you’re married is a good idea, but you know she’s going to freak out when she hears you got Jenna pregnant. This will end very badly; I just know it!” I instantly freeze when I hear my dad’s voice.

  I must be losing my goddamn mind because I’m pretty sure he just said that Chris got my cousin pregnant. WHAT THE HELL! I’m almost positive my heart just stopped. I can’t move. I don’t want to hear any more of this, but I can’t make myself step away. This can’t be happening. Chris loves me and Jenna would never betray me like this!

  “Look, Sam, it was a drunken indiscretion! Jenna knows I love Carson and that I’m marrying her. She understands that nothing will ever come of our little tryst other than our kid. I told her I’d pay her child support and make sure she was taken care of, but she is to keep her mouth shut and let me handle this. I’ll tell Carson eventually. Right now is not a good time to announce that I knocked up her best friend,” Chris says in a quieter voice, like he knows someone might be overhearing the conversation.

  I feel all of the breath leave me. No way! My cousin Jenna, my best friend since birth, would NEVER betray me like that. I must be losing my mind. I must be hearing things.

  I take a step toward the door to the room Chris has been getting ready in, but I stop when I hear the door slam.

  “Christopher, you can’t tell Carson yet. I thought we discussed this,” the feminine voice says with authority. I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s the iciest, most spine-chilling voice I’ve ever heard; my mother’s. It’s the voice that reminded me daily my entire life to sit up straight, always wear a full face of makeup, never leave the house in anything other than an outfit fit for the runway, and NEVER let anyone see your pain. Ladies smile. Ladies never divulge secrets. Ladies do what they are told.

  “Jesus Christ! Sam and I were just discussing this, Mimi. I’ll tell her after the honeymoon. She’ll be over the moon happy and will forgive me. You two are driving me crazy. Carson loves me. She’ll forgive me. We’ll be married by then, and she won’t want the gossip to ruin our families’ reputations,” Chris bellows. He sounds really pissed, which is not a tone I’m used to. He’s always so patient and warm.

  “I hope you know what you’re talking about, Chris. Carson is a stubborn girl. She may kick your ass out the door without a second thought,” my dad says with anger in his voice. “She’s a good girl, Chris. She doesn’t deserve this.”

  “Believe me, I know how much of a ‘good girl’ your daughter is, Sam,” Chris spits out.

  I hear my dad’s loud footsteps and then a door slam. I don’t hear any more voices, so I’m assuming that was my parents who just stormed off.

  In that moment, I can’t see I’m so pissed. Is this really happening?

  I ste
p back into my room, close the French doors to the balcony and lean back against them. What am I going to do? I can’t marry that cheating bastard. He slept with Jenna! I’m not sure what makes me more upset and heartbroken: his betrayal or hers. I walk to the entry door and flip the lock. I don’t want anyone in this room until I decide what to do next.

  Sitting down on the chaise lounge in the middle of the room, I look around, taking in the obnoxious wealth of it all. I was born into what most would consider luxury, so I’ve never had to want for anything. If I wanted it, my parents made it happen. Once I started dating Chris, if I wanted it, he made it happen. That’s all gone and now that I sit here, in this room, in my wedding dress, with a broken heart, I realize I don’t give a damn about the wealth. I don’t want anything from any of them, and if I could remember every item any of them has ever given to me, I’d start a bonfire in the damn front yard of my parent’s multi-million-dollar mansion.

  The magnitude of what’s happening hits me all at once and I lean over, trying not to puke. My nerves are already shot. I try to put things into perspective. I’m in my wedding dress, on my wedding day. My best friend and cousin, Jenna, apparently slept with my fiancé at some point and is now knocked-up with his kid. My parents, both of them, are fully aware of the situation and my mother talked Chris into not telling me until after the wedding. They believe that once we’re married, I’ll forgive him for the sake of not having everyone in the upper crust of New Orleans in our business. Wow!

  Drastic measures are in order.

  I peel the wedding dress off my body, tossing it onto the chaise. I grab my jeans and tank top, flip-flops and a rubber band for all this damn hair. I start ripping bobby-pins and the tiny flowers out. By the time I’m done, I’m certain there are a million of them scattered across the floor. I go into the bathroom and wash my face of all the makeup, scrubbing until I feel like my skin is raw.

  Walking to the desk in the corner of the room, I find a pad of paper and write a note to Chris:

  This dress deserves to be worn by a bride, but it sure as hell won’t be me. Marry Jenna. You deserve each other.

  I consider leaving a note for my parents and Jenna, too, but decide none of them need an explanation. Once he finds the note, he can tell them whatever the hell he wants. Truthfully, I’m pretty sure Jenna’s betrayal shocks me more than anything. I’d have laid my life down for her. We were peas and carrots. Best friends. Sisters. I’ve told her everything my whole life. It dawns on me that she has been bragging to me about this new guy she met who is amazing in bed. When I asked who it was, she told me I didn’t know him and that he was from out of town. I feel sick instantly. She must’ve been talking about Chris. It wasn’t a drunken indiscretion like he was telling my parents. He’d been sleeping with her for months! Now I’m even more pissed.

  I place the note on top of the dress, grab my purse and keys, and head for the door. Screw all of them. I don’t need this. I walk as covertly as possible, trying hard not to attract attention to the fact that the bride is walking through the house in jeans and flip-flops, crying, with a large bottle of champagne tucked under her arm. I grabbed it on my way through the kitchen area. I have a feeling I’ll need it later.

  I get to my SUV, the one my parents bought for me when I announced I was accepted to law school. My beautiful BMW X1. I stand for a moment, staring at the car that reminds me only of their expectations; expectations that have nothing to do with what I want or my happiness and all about bragging rights about their daughter. Damn them. I don’t need their obnoxious car. I lift the bottle of champagne up over my head and bring it down on the hood of the car. The bottle doesn’t break, though I feel like it broke my wrist on impact. I bring it up again, this time smashing it against the windshield, shards of glass flying in all directions. I pull out my cell and hit the speed-dial number for the cab company I’ve called more than a few times to retrieve me and my girls from the latest hot club.

  As I stand impatiently waiting for the cab, my anger begins to boil over and I’m sobbing. I HATE that I cry like a lunatic when I’m pissed. These tears are nothing but pure anger at what they’ve done to me. How dare they betray me! I look around frantically for the damn cab. I’ve been out here for what feels like hours, and surely someone has noticed I’m gone. Less than a minute later, I hear Chris yelling my name, so I duck behind a large SUV in case he comes out into the parking lot looking for me. I don’t want to face him or my parents right now. I need time to figure out what the hell to do. I can’t just go home. My parents will show up, Chris will show up, they’ll try to beg and plead their case, I’ll cave at some point, and my life will still be full of this absolutely unnecessary bullshit. I need to leave. New Orleans has been my home since birth, but in order to move on with my life, I’m going to have to leave the only place I’ve ever known as ‘home’.

  Suddenly, I know exactly what I’m going to do, and the anger once again surges into my chest. My eyes dry and my fists clench at my sides. I take a few deep breaths, turn and walk toward the house, still hearing Chris’ yelling. He comes around the corner and sees me, stopping abruptly. I see the worry on his face, so he obviously found my note. He starts to walk quickly in my direction, but I hold up my hands and he stops. I can now see the embarrassment on his face. My heart begins to pound hard enough that I feel like I may be having a heart attack. I see movement behind Chris and when I look up, Jenna is running toward me, crying hysterically.

  “Jenna, STOP!” I scream. I take a deep breath. “Don’t you dare come any closer to me, because the only thing keeping me from beating your ass right now is that baby you’re carrying. I have not one fucking thing to say to you,” I say as calmly as possible. All that anger is fighting to get out. Chris sees it in my face; shit’s about to get ugly.

  I walk slowly to him, watching as his body goes rigid. He’s known me long enough to tell when I’m about to lose my shit. I hear the cab pull up behind me and honk, so I turn and hold my finger for him to give me a second. He nods.

  When I reach Chris, I stop just inches from him and look into his eyes. “You, my parents, and that whore I thought was my best friend all betrayed me, and NOTHING you say will ever fix that. I can’t even look at you without wanting to throw up. I hope you can live with the knowledge that y’all’s betrayal has pushed me to leave the only home I’ve ever known. If you ever loved me, even a little bit, you won’t say another word to me. Let me walk away with the last shred of my dignity,” I seethe, barely above a whisper. I can still hear Jenna crying, apologizing repeatedly. I look over and see the tears and pain on her face, and I absolutely lose it.

  “Fuck you, Jenna! I don’t need or want an apology from you. You were my best friend! My own flesh and blood! YOU HAVE RUINED ME!” I scream. I watch as she falls to her knees and sobs. I feel no pity for her. None. I remember a time when her cries always elicited an instinct in me to protect her. She’d always been so little and I had always protected her. That feeling is completely gone. If she weren’t pregnant right now, I’d beat her ass and walk away smiling. She did this. She brought this hell down on herself.

  I start to walk toward the cab but stop just a few steps away. Turning, I look back at Chris for a split second but notice he is not watching me walk away. He is watching Jenna with a sad, emotional look on his face and reality hits me in the face. He is in love with her. I walk back to Chris and punch him in the face with everything I have in me. He drops to his butt and grasps his face as the blood starts to run from his nose. Jenna screams and jumps up, running to him. She loves him, too. How had I not seen this? How had I not noticed that my fiancé and my best friend are totally in love with each other?

  I look over at the crowd that has gathered and see my parents are standing at the entryway, watching the whole clusterfuck that just went down. Neither says a word. I can see the worry on my father’s face, but my mother looks like she is embarrassed and pissed that I’ve caused this scene. It makes me smile because I know it’s t
otally inappropriate for a good southern lady to act out. Knowing that I’m pissing her off makes me smile even wider. My mother takes a breath and opens her mouth to speak, but I shake my head and cut her off.

  “I don’t want to hear anything either of you has to say. You’re my parents. You were supposed to protect me from that shit storm. Instead, you were leading me right into it. I’m going to go back to your house, pack my bags and I’ll be gone. We are done here.” I turn to head to the cab and I hear my dad calling my name. My heart is broken, and in this moment, I want nothing more in the world than to be as far away from this place as I can get. The only place I’ve known as home, and I can’t stand to think of living here for one more second.

  I hear my dad come up behind me. “Carson, take your car. At least take your car and let me give you some money. It kills me to think of you out there on your own.” He is pleading with me and I can see the tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Car. I’m so sorry,” he whispers, looking down as the tears start to fall freely from both our eyes.

  “I expected something like this from her,” I say, pointing at my mother who is standing a few feet away listening. “But never you, Daddy. Never you.” I shake my head and look away. “She wins again.” I take a step away from him toward the cab when I feel his hand grab my arm.

  “Carson, please take the car and this,” he repeats as he starts to pull $100 bills from his wallet.

  I turn to the side, not looking at his face because I want so badly to forgive him, and only him. I know if I look at him, I’ll cave. “I don’t want your car, or your money, Daddy. Don’t worry about me. Let me go, Daddy. I can’t stay here, and I can’t look at any of you.” I kiss him on the cheek without looking at his eyes. “I’ll always love you, Daddy, but I can’t forgive you. Not for this,” I whisper, so low I don’t know if he heard me.

  I know my mother is who talked him into not telling me because he’d never just agree to deceive me. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and she’s always hated that. For some odd reason, my mother always talks him into whatever it is SHE thinks is best. He’s weak for that woman, and I hate her for it. She I will not miss. My heart will break every day for my daddy’s absence in my life, though.