She ate one, then quickly a second and was still moaning when she picked up the third. When both our phones chimed with a text from Jorge, I was pulled out of my sugar high.
All good here
he’s mad but opening up
didn’t see anything sexual
maybe he was too sleepy
“Sleepy, yeah, one can hope,” I uttered under my breath. But, Shawna had been right about one thing, Jorge was the right person to call for Ty.
Shawna took the baby and laid her down on my bed. When she returned, she had mischief in her eyes. “So, I have an offer you cannot refuse.”
Did I really like the sound of that? No. “Okay. Is this your way of telling me I can’t refuse?”
“You’re a brat. Lighten up and have some fun. I figured it out, Jorge can keep the baby and Ty over at our house, and we can have Bunco over here.”
I rubbed my temporals. Sometimes she could be relentless. “I don’t know if I have it in me.”
“You can let that ponytail of yours down tonight and tie one on. How long has it been since you laughed and had some fun?” She giggled. “I’ve got enough milk pumped for three days. I may enjoy some vino for myself.”
Taking a deep breath, “I can’t drink with these migraine meds, but, fine you win. I’ll do it.”
Meds… Good excuse, keep it rollin’… Yeah, more lies.
She threw her hands up and cheered. “Yay, I’m so glad you said yes because I already sent out the text. You’re a sucker.” She giggled.
“You’re going to pay for this,” I pointed my finger at her in fun and snickered.
I did need a night with the girls and my attitude instantly perked up at the thought. When Shawna took the baby home, I checked in with Jorge and ran to the store for wine, mixers and ingredients to make a few finger foods. It was going to be short order, but then again, I had short notice.
The last time I had Bunco was the weekend in which I met Ian… How life changes over time.
Chapter Seven
Ian
“Good afternoon, Ian. How’s the last couple of days been for you?” Dr. Starrett held my gaze as he took the seat across from me on the front porch to my cabin. His visits were always unannounced and invariably, on most occasions took place in this same spot.
But then again, I spent most of my time on this porch, overlooking the mountains of Wyoming. I’d come to love looking at them as much as I did the waves back in California.
“Same,” my answer stern.
“That’s always your answer, but we both know nothing is the same for you, is it?”
“Nope.”
I watched him squirm. He wanted to say so much—counselors always do, yet they fight their tongue and resort to open-ended questions, hoping you’ll say it for them.
Such a mind game.
I decided to relieve him of his own anxiety. “Why don’t you say what you have on your mind and stop toying with me.”
Observing his chest fall in a heavy exhale, I knew the lecture was approaching. Hell, I opened the floor for him.
“You continue to hide out here under the subtext that you’re fighting addiction. We both know that’s not really the case.”
“And what makes you so sure you’re right about that?”
He wrote something down on the notepad inside the well-worn brown portfolio case he was never seen without and began to eye me with narrowed brows. “Because re-entering the real world means you have to be open to the harshness from the ones you care deeply for.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
“That’s tough for an addict.” I crossed my legs and leaned back into the chair.
“Ian, you are an addict, but you’ve been sober for years previous to your accident with no problems, and you’ve been sober months since. You’re hiding here because you don’t want to discover the new you.”
What the fuck did he know about the new me? I certainly wouldn’t call it new and improved.
“Why don’t you cut to the chase, Frank?” The terseness of my tone wasn’t intended, but it fit the moment regardless. Using his first name put us on an even playing ground.
“Fine. You’re chicken to reach out to Chelsie, fearing rejection, yet you sit here day in and out pining away for her. The longer you stay here, the greater your denial. You believe you’ve got a cover, but it’s avoidance, quite frankly. So, I’m going to do the medical nudge the old-fashioned parental way. I’m cutting your ass loose from here in ten days. You’re free to leave any time before then, but I’m putting you on a short leash into reality. You’re going to face the real world whether you like it not. Until your discharge, you will spend at least four hours a day sitting across from me. By then, you’ll be ready to run.”
I stood, turned and kicked the chair I’d been sitting into the corner of the decking. Childish, I know, but so much of my frustration had remained bottled.
“What the fuck don’t you get? My right arm is ruined and looks like it belongs to a monster after four surgeries. I’ll never operate on anyone again because I can’t hold a surgical instrument. I’ve had to learn to walk again because my brain took a beating. I can’t surf or manage the wheel of a yacht, my favorite two hobbies. Since my right hand is completely useless, I’m stuck with learning to write and eat with my left. Try tying your shoes with one hand. At the bottom of my hell—my parents have disowned me and my son won’t speak to me. What do I have to live for?”
“Everything.” His voice was almost a whisper.
Chapter Eight
Chelsie
The song “Selfie” was rocking in the background of my small, square kitchen. With every few beats, Ty would stop and act out a cute selfie pose. The kid loved music and had since the very day he was born. Back then, it was lullabies and soft classical, but as he grew older, he held my love for more upbeat tempos. The words of the song playing suddenly had me realizing I needed to start paying closer attention to the lyrics and attitudes of the songs on my playlist. He’d began to develop a little bit of an edge with me lately, and I’d been forgiving it, what with Ian leaving and the Jason debacle, but I couldn’t stop being a parent—especially with another one on the way.
Despite my earlier fears of him withdrawing, my heart warmed as he acted more like his old self after returning from his day with Jorge. Ty didn’t tell me what they discussed, and I didn’t ask, thinking it was more important that he feel as though he could confide in someone. I didn’t even ask Jorge to divulge what was said, although curiosity filled my brain with a gazillion scenarios.
Trust means giving up control. I have neither because of my current tornadic life.
We were busy preparing a tray of mini pastry cones stuffed with spicy chicken salad, a hors d’ oeuvre that was one of his favorites. I’m pretty sure Ty ate more than he plated but it was fun jamming to the music and dancing around the small space between our table, the counter, and refrigerator. When I turned from washing my hands at the sink, I noticed Ty missing. I was just about to go looking for him when he skipped back into the kitchen with Jason on his heels.
“Momma was singing so loud. Did you hear her?” Ty’s front teeth were shining with a crooked, baby tooth smile, some missing. It was the first time he’d seemed truly happy since the night before. I don’t know what Jorge did, but I would be forever grateful.
Jason grinned. “Yep, I think I heard her singing off key when I got out of my car.” I watched while he placed his keys and phone on the bar in the same place like he did every time he came over.
He took a seat at my kitchen counter. “Looks like I interrupted a party in the process.”
“Girls ni—”
“Nah, just drunco.” Ty interrupted.
My mouth flew open. A crass comment from a fifteen-year-old, perhaps, but not a seven-year-old.
Been a rough twenty-four hours, but little boy, you’ll find yourself in some trouble with a smart mouth.
“Excuse me, Ty Peterson.” That b
oy knew a raised brow would be followed by a swat on his rear if he didn’t control his behavior.
He covered his mouth for a second. “Well, that’s what you and Ms. Shawna call it.” He tried to laugh it off.
A glance in Jason’s direction found him trying hard to hide his laughter by his hand on the side of his face, but while he sat at the bar, I could see his chest moving up and down quickly in his tight, Rock Revival black t-shirt.
“Yes, we teasingly called it that. But, to be clear, it’s Bunco. Where you play a dice game, and that is what you’re supposed to call it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He washed his hands at the sink, and I noticed his mood change. “Mom, can I play my game?”
I hated to get on to him, but I couldn’t allow him to be disrespectful. Even though he was truthful? The fine line of parenting.
“Sure. You’ve got an hour.”
Ty ran off to his room with a look of embarrassment on his lowered face.
I finished filling the cone I had in my hand and focused my eyes on Jason. We hadn’t had a chance to talk about his date with Sabrina. “Fill me in. What’s going on?”
He propped one elbow on the bar and leaned his cheek on his hand. “I wanted an update on you and him, but it seems like you both are doing okay. You’ve got a shiner, and he seems happy enough, but ‘Drunko?’ I’m sorry to have laughed, but that’s hysterical.” He laughed slightly again.
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t let him go around talking like that.”
Jason reached for my hand across the counter and gave it a squeeze before quickly letting it go. “He’s a kid with a lot of emotions going through him right now. A man he thought was wonderful and ultimately his own superhero has become a monster right in front of his own eyes. That has to be tough.”
“He went with Jorge today, opening up to him more than he had with me. I’m in uncharted waters here.” I shrugged my shoulders.
He drug his teeth across his bottom lip as I handed him a glass of tea. “Darlin’, Superwoman, you are not. It’s time to let your friends rally around you both. And with the ‘other news’ you have to deliver soon, the hits will keep coming for him.”
I took the seat next to him and slid a plate of chicken salad and crackers his way. “He’s done a one-eighty since this morning, but I know he’s just blocking the pain. I wonder if seeing and talking to his dad might be the right thing?”
Jason’s exhale noticeable. “If you want my opinion, I’d keep him away from that idiot. You don’t know what else Ty has seen or heard.”
No shit.
Needing a change of conversation, I became nosey and had to know. “So, tell me about last night with Sabrina before the evening got interrupted.”
He took a big drink of tea, and I noticed he was smiling when he put the glass down.
“She’s a character and a lot of laughs. We had a lot to talk about. We both have relatives who live outside San Antonio in the same small town, and one of her favorite restaurants down there is one of mine. Did you know that she was in some beauty pageants?”
“No, she never mentioned it, and I don’t recall it being on her resume, but I can see why. She’s gorgeous.”
Sabrina came to work every day with her long, silky, black hair in a ponytail, and not a bit of makeup on. She didn’t need it. Her big brown eyes sparkled every time she spoke and her olive skin and naturally full, rosy lips made her white teeth pop in a bright smile. She was naturally stunning. They made a beautiful pair if nothing else.
I moved to the kitchen side of the counter and started cleaning up my mess before Bunco. “I have to admit, I hired her for her skills, but I have noticed that she has a male fan base that keeps returning to the bistro every day for lunch.” I winked at him, but I noticed he paid attention to what I said when his forehead wrinkled.
“She said she wasn’t seeing anyone.” His tone more than a bit inquisitive.
Oooh, jealous much?
“She’s not. Being a single mom is tough to balance.”
He continued to shovel in the chicken salad while I put everything away and cleared the table of my extra mixing bowls. A glance at one of them caused my heart to glitch for a second. It was Mom’s favorite red stoneware. She had an entire collection of it. What would she think of my life lately? Would I disappoint her?
“Chelsie?”
When I looked up, Jason was standing beside me with questioning eyes. “This was my mom’s. I miss her so much.”
His embrace was comforting.
I wept.
“You can’t keep all this in, sweetheart. You have to let your secrets out, start living your life and planning for the future you want.”
He was right. But the future I wanted wasn’t possible.
* * *
Within two hours, I’d fixed my meltdown face, perked up my attitude and welcomed eleven ornery girls into my home for a night of fun. Surprisingly, no one asked about my bruises, so I could only assume that Shawna told all the girls what happened and not to mention it. Believe it or not, even living across the street, Shawna wasn’t the first one to arrive. In fact, she was almost the last, and she brought a special friend.
“This is Madame Lee, and she’s going to do Tarot card readings for us,” Shawna announced to the group.
She wiggled her brow behind the Madame. “She will tell you if Jason is the one.”
The answer to that question was abundantly clear to me regardless, but I played along. “Jason is definitely a hottie. What woman in her right mind would pass that up?”
Nobody has said I was in my right mind for a long time.
When I picked up the wine cork and inhaled the deep oak and fruity scent of the 2002 Chardonnay, Kimmie took notice. “You can’t get drunk by inhaling. Get you some, hun.”
“Yeah, where’s your glass?” Kelly asked.
Placing the cork back in the bottle, I faked a sigh. “My migraine meds hate alcohol and make me sick, so unless you gals want to clean up on aisle two and four and possibly eighteen, I have to avoid it. Doesn’t mean I can’t inhale, though.”
Chuckles were abounding. “Who does she think she is. Clinton?” The unrecognizable heckler added.
It was booze only, but I think if I weren’t pregnant, I might’ve been willing to try anything that would mellow me out.
We had played another game round before we paused for more food and a special tarot reading. Everyone was chicken to be the first, so Shawna offered me up as the sacrificial lamb. “Here, Chelsie will go first. She’s like Mikey, she’ll do anything.”
“Pfff,” I uttered.
Thanks, friend.
Madame Lee cleared an area on the table as the girls gathered round. “Take the seat across from me,” she kindly ordered. “Have you ever had a reading?”
A funny nervousness grabbed my voice. I shook my head no, unable to utter the words.
She shuffled the cards and then handed them to me to split the deck. She laid down the first two cards. “Nice, your business is doing well.” She commented. That was easy, anybody in our midst would know that. So far, so good. I began to relax; this was easier than I thought.
She laid down another card. “Hmm, Ace of Wands,” she uttered.
Directing my eyes from the table up to hers, I found worry there. Suddenly, I found myself on the outside of my life looking in, waiting for the magic words to believe in something other than the truth I knew.
If only Ian were here. I could accept anything as long as he was by my side.
She gasped. “Page of Cups.” Her eyes got big, and she put both hands on her cheeks.
Fear struck. Was I going to die or something? Her reaction to the cards was so vivid. “What does all of this mean?” Quickly, I peeked at the other dozen pairs of eyes surrounding us. No one was saying a thing.
“You’re pregnant or about to be.” Her bright smile would’ve lit up a New York play. “Isn’t this fun.”
Say something.
Do something, don’t just sit here.
“Huh,” was all I had.
I met Shawna’s gaze, and her eyes held the telltale sign of a conversation coming sooner than later.
Afraid that denying it would only make me a liar in a few more weeks when I could no longer hide my baby bump, I froze. It was time, to be honest with myself and the rest of the world.
“Yes, it’s true. I’m pregnant.” My announcement is jovial with a bit of sarcasm.
There, I said it. Jason will be so happy that I came clean. What a relief to become honest with the world.
Looking around the room, I found surprised faces and then someone to my right began laughing. “She’s such a great tease. This is all fake. Let’s see what it says about me.”
“I have one more card,” Madame Lee uttered before placing the final card on the table. “The Hanged Man.”
“What does that mean?” Fear choked my words, it was a scary fuckin’ card.
“The ultimate surrender, being suspended in time and sacrifice of the greater good.”
“That’s Chelsie,” Shawna spoke over Madame Lee’s left shoulder. When I made eye contact with her, she motioned for us to leave the room.
“Well, all this play has been fun, but it’s someone else’s turn to go under the knife. Take the seat if you dare,” I teased.
Not wanting to be too obvious, I refreshed some of the trays and refilled the ice bucket before I snuck off to my bedroom, where I knew Shawna had gone minutes earlier.
As soon as I approached my bedroom, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bathroom.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Her angry face told me she was hurt I hadn’t told her in private—first.
“Yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“What do you know about what I’m thinking?”
“Ian is the father, not Jason. He came in town the night of the engagement party and waited for me here. The next morning, I found myself dressed in pajamas and believing it was all a dream. It wasn’t.”
Captivated On 5th Avenue: Book 3 (5th Avenue Romance Series) Page 4
