Designed

by Alicia Renee Kline

  Victorious in my search, I produced my key ring. I dangled it in between us, over his desk. It held two keys, both of which Dad recognized quite well. One belonged to the house, the other to the Mercedes.

  “I do mean that,” I hissed. “Just as much as you meant what you said about Matthew. So since you’re so eager to get rid of your son, I’ll make it a package deal. You no longer have a daughter, either. Give me five minutes and you can pretend I was never born, too.”

  I rose from my seat, practically toppling it over. In one quick move, I slammed the keychain down on the top of the desk. The car key dug into the expensive wood, leaving an ugly scratch.

  “To remember me by,” I motioned, “because you’ll never see me again. I hope you look at it every day and you realize how much you’ve lost and it haunts you until the day you die.”

  Before he could come up with a clever enough response, I grabbed up my purse and headed for the exit. It took a split second before Chris snapped out of his shock and joined me. Once I felt his presence behind me, I spun around to take one last look at the person who had given me life.

  “Fuck you,” I said in closing, thrusting the door open and bursting out into the foyer. Once Chris and I were outside the office, I slammed the double doors shut, the reverberation echoing through the cavernous space.

  “Blake,” Chris pleaded, following me upstairs as I ran to my bedroom, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

  I didn’t answer until we’d made it to the space I’d always called home. The familiar walls of my childhood stared back at me, reminding me of happier times. Memories of the early stages of my relationship with Chris, specifically the first time we’d made love, hit me like a brick and I choked back a sob.

  “This isn’t up for debate,” I insisted, composing myself. “I’ve failed Matthew so many times, I’m not about to do it again.”

  I opened my walk-in closet, pulling out a suitcase and emptying the contents of some of my dressers inside. Chris watched me, not lifting a finger to help. I could tell he was trying to come up with an argument for me to stay, to not take a stand. But in doing that, I’d be no better than my dad, leaving my brother out in the cold like he was a piece of trash. No way in hell did Matthew deserve that. Even if I wanted to kill him right now, there was just as large of a part of me that wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let him go.

  I walked past Chris into my bathroom, grabbing various bottles and accessories until the suitcase threatened to burst at the seams. He hovered in the doorway, slowly resigning himself to the fact that what I was doing was very real. There was no turning back, no going downstairs and begging for forgiveness. As hardheaded as my father was, I had him beaten in spades.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked instead.

  I wanted to crumble before him, to admit that I hadn’t thought that far ahead. It had been shortsighted of me to give up my home and my car before having a master plan, but I covered well.

  “Matthew’s got room at his place,” I shrugged, making it up as I went along, “he’s likely going to have to spend some time in jail once he’s sentenced, so he’ll need someone to watch his house. And I know for a fact that he’s not going to be able to drive, so I’ll use his car for now.”

  All that was left for me was to convince my darling brother of this. He was good at the power of persuasion, but he wasn’t the only one who could teach the master class. Besides, he wasn’t really in much of a position to oppose.

  “I just think that the two of you are overreacting,” Chris said, referring to myself and my dad. “You should both sit down and talk this out when cooler heads prevail.”

  “No,” I snapped, causing him to jump to attention. “It’s over.”

  As I looked Chris firmly in the eye, I had the sinking feeling that I wasn’t only speaking about my relationship with my parents. Because it hurt too much to fathom, I quickly turned away and focused my attention on rolling my suitcase out of my room and down the hallway.

  I paused ever so briefly at the door to Matthew’s old room, my fingers grazing the wood as my head rested against it. My eyes squeezed shut as I wondered how we had ever gotten to this point. So much for being born with the silver spoon in your mouth. When you got older, it did nothing but choke you and make you want to gag.

  No, Matthew and I were better off alone, better off without all this. Lives of excess had taught us nothing; it was time for a good dose of adversity. I’d prove once and for all that I wasn’t the kind of woman my father had hinted at, the one that demanded others to take care of me.

  A woman like my mother.

  When we reached the stairs, Chris jerked the suitcase away from me and carried it down. It didn’t seem right to thank him so I said nothing, inwardly glad that he wouldn’t have to see me struggle so shortly after declaring my independence. He returned it to me at the bottom of the landing, however, allowing me to roll it the rest of the way out of my former home.

  No one came to try to stop me from leaving, though I lingered in the foyer for a moment just to see if they would. My father stayed holed up in his office, preparing the words that would prevent his sterling reputation in the community from being tarnished. And my mother was nowhere to be found, though I’d swear that when I gave a cursory glance backward before slamming the door behind me forever that I saw her figure at the top of the stairs, watching me for the final time.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I could tell it was a very special occasion almost as soon as I set foot in my own home. Lauren’s red Sonata was already parked in my driveway and from the smell of things in the kitchen as I entered from the garage, she’d been at my place for a while. Given the time, I doubted that she’d waited for my brother to arrive at whichever place they were calling home today before coming over.

  “Hey, there,” I greeted as I breezed in.

  “Hey,” she responded cheerily.

  It was stupid to ask her what she was doing there. Very clearly, she was standing barefoot in my kitchen, cooking me dinner. From the looks of it, this was a feast to rival that of a Thanksgiving meal. Given her predilection for order, her cooking style was a little unorthodox. Most of the contents of my cabinets were displayed on my countertops, along with various kitchen items that I supposed I owned but didn’t remember ever seeing before.

  “Am I missing something?” I asked, mentally running through the calendar in my head. As far as I could recall, it wasn’t anyone’s birthday or anniversary, nor was it any other day that would call for a celebration of this magnitude. “Because I’m pretty certain that Christmas has come and gone.”

  Lauren giggled, pressing her hand over her mouth like she was afraid it she didn’t hold it in, the truth might fall out.

  Warning bells went off in my head as I thought of the possibilities.

  “Oh, no,” I breathed, my mind focusing on one scenario in particular, “don’t tell me you’re setting me up.”

  This brought a peal of laughter from my petite friend. “Oh no, nothing like that.”

  “So what gives?” I asked, intrigued. “You look like you’re making enough to feed an army and that you’ve been here all day.”

  She shrugged. “I took a half day off of work.”

  “To make me dinner?”

  “Not exactly. I decided it was time to start really focusing on the wedding. So I spent part of today looking through magazines and sort of meditating about what kind of a ceremony I wanted. Then I came over and started cooking because I’m hungry.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. And Matthew didn’t take the rest of the day off with you?”

  “No, we met for lunch and then I went and did my own thing. He had some sort of management meeting this afternoon that he couldn’t get out of. He’ll be over when he’s done.”

  “Which should be soon,” I predicted, giving a quick glance at the clock on my stove.

  “Yeah, should be,” she confirmed, returning to the range to stir whatever was cooking o
n top.

  “You’re still acting weird,” I observed, throwing a look over my shoulder as I prepared to retreat to my bedroom to change. “If Chris shows up here tonight to eat with us, I’m going to kill you.”

  “No Chris,” she called after me, “only Matthew!”

  Her insistence did nothing to ease my confusion. I doubted that she’d flat out lie about that, given the circumstances, but stranger things had happened. Maybe it was her plan to bait me with a good meal, then drag my bloated body out to her car and drive me over to his place for one of her so-called ninja interventions. Or that he would magically appear once the final dish was loaded in the dishwasher, just so she could keep her word about telling the truth.

  Why did my mind always wander to him? I stared at my reflection in my bedroom mirror, wondering if I was only fooling myself into believing that I was happy being by myself. I’d proven both him and my father wrong during the almost decade since Matthew’s second arrest, holding true to my word that I’d be okay on my own. In many ways, I had been.

  I slumped down on my round mattress, allowing myself a moment of composure. This was my sanctuary now, a place Chris had never physically touched, though his memory lived here most every night. My bedroom was my favorite room in my house, loving referred to as “The Bubble Room” due to the circular patterns found throughout. The look I’d been going for was reminiscent of floating on a cloud, or blowing a giant bubble out in the middle of a purple sunset. I succeeded on both counts based on the looks that people gave me when they entered. It almost made me believe my own hype; that I was as talented as others insisted I was.

  But clouds brought storms and bubbles popped.

  And my sanctuary wasn’t a place of fond memories, of calm and restoration. It was a place where I retreated, alone, after a full day of pretending that I wasn’t. A place where I sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and sobbing, doubled over in phantom pain as I remembered the life that never was.

  It had been a nice touch to make my bed round, I supposed. It might be quirky and impossible to buy bedding for in a store, but it was damn well convenient for curling up into the fetal position.

  So often, I’d dreamt about him being here with me, stroking my hair adoringly as he dried my tears. As he whispered forgiveness for what I’d done to him. As he told me the thing I most wanted to hear: that he loved me despite everything in our past.

  But he’d never sat beside me and said that, much as I wanted him to. Yet I reserved that space for him here like he had, much the same as I held it open in my heart. Until he’d warmed it with his presence, it was sacred and I’d never let anyone else fill that void.

  I heard my front door open and close, announcing Matthew’s arrival and snapped to attention, opening the closet and changing into the first thing I found. Within minutes of him showing up, I’d put on my plastic exterior, bounding down the hallway with a smile that rivaled Lauren’s genuine one.

  “Hey, dork.”

  I ran up behind him, engulfing him in the usual hug we greeted each other with.

  “Hey, sunshine.”

  He turned around in my embrace, resting his cheek on top of my head and squeezing me a little tighter than normal. So they were both in good spirits. Wedding planning must be going well. After holding me for a customary amount of time, he broke free of the grip and went over to greet his intended.

  If I didn’t love both of them so much, I would have been sickened.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he breathed, walking up behind her at the stove.

  The smile she gave him in return was giddy and reminiscent of someone who hadn’t seen him in years, not merely hours. They kissed, oblivious to the fact that I was standing right in front of them. Ah, to be young and so in love. Just as I was about to clear my throat to remind them that I was there, they broke apart.

  Lauren smoothed her t-shirt, rumpled by their groping at one another. Matthew helped her, his fingers lingering about her waist, pressing her body protectively into his own.

  “You didn’t tell her already, did you?” he asked, gesturing to me.

  “Nope,” she replied, obviously proud of herself.

  “Tell me what?” I asked, at once growing tired of their guessing game but trying valiantly to politely play along.

  “Matthew and I were wondering how quickly you could plan a wedding,” she hedged, batting her eyelashes innocently.

  The knot in my stomach loosened. Well, that explained things. They were ready to get serious about the whole event and set a date. It was about damn time. I ran some mental calculations.

  “Well, we’ve already got the dress ordered, so we’re one step ahead of the game there. That’s always a good thing. We’d need to have a couple dates in mind to see if there’s a location available. Are you hung up on having it at a church, then going to a reception hall?”

  “Not really,” Lauren allowed.

  “Good. Because that would save us some time. I’ve actually got a friend who runs a hotel downtown. They do quite a few weddings there; he’d probably be able to score me a deal. And it would be super convenient for your out of town guests to stay there. I’m sure you’re planning on inviting some old coworkers from Indy?”

  “Yeah. That sounds good.”

  Perhaps working with her wouldn’t be so bad, I decided. Once we’d crossed the bridge of selecting the wedding dress, she seemed infinitely more agreeable. Maybe I’d have that kind of carte blanche authority I’d longed for, after all.

  “So, we get rings done. We get flowers. We get bridesmaids dresses and tuxes. We find someone to marry you and we’re home free.”

  “So, how long is that?” she asked, clearly wanting me to narrow it down. She hadn’t consulted her bridal magazines that well if she didn’t realize it took mere mortals on average about a year to plan something like that to perfection. But I wasn’t a mere mortal; I was the best of the best. And I could call in a lot of favors, which I had no problem doing.

  “Late summer maybe?”

  It came off sounding like more of a question than I would have liked, but she took it at face value. After digesting my words and mulling it over a bit, she exchanged a look with Matthew. They both turned to me, grinning like Cheshire cats.

  “So then it’s settled,” she announced. “Decide on a date that works for everyone and let us know. We’ll show up whenever.”

  The look I gave her must have been priceless. I felt my face contort in shock. Miss Control Freak was now asking me to pick the date for her own wedding?

  “Um, Lauren, usually the bride and groom pick the date and everyone works around what they want.”

  She shrugged. “Well, then, I’m different.”

  “Okay, then. Why don’t you go home and sleep on it and get back to me? In the meantime, I’ll see what I can scrape together to give you some options. But realistically, we’re looking at August or September if you want the true experience. If you’re really looking for quick, you’ll drive on down to the courthouse and do it tomorrow.”

  “No,” Matthew interjected, stopping that train of thought before Lauren could climb aboard. “I promised you the wedding of your dreams. Nothing is going to change that, not even this.”

  “Not even what?” I asked, wishing someone, anyone, would clue me in.

  “What we’re trying to tell you,” Matthew began, looking over at his fiancée for permission to continue - which was apparently granted - “is that you’re going to be an aunt. Lauren’s pregnant.”

  They both stared at me, waiting for my congratulations. I grabbed onto the granite countertop, hopefully discreetly enough, for support.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, the surprise in my voice not faked, “that’s wonderful.”

  And it was, I told myself.

  “It wasn’t exactly the way we intended,” Lauren admitted, “but we weren’t not trying either, I suppose. And there’s enough of a traditionalist in me left to want to get hitched before the baby�
��s here. Hopefully, I’ll still be able to fit into my dress. I guess it’s a good thing they’ll have to do alterations to it, anyway.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine, Lauren,” I told her, as much to convince myself as her. “I’m sure it will be just fine.”

  “We had the second doctor’s appointment today,” Matthew interrupted excitedly.

  As chilled to the bone as I was, it was heavenly to see him so happy. He deserved this more than anyone else. They deserved this.

  And yet my mind kept spinning as the room around me started to as well. My grip on the countertop tightened until I was afraid I’d break a nail. As if hovering outside of my own body, I heard myself ask how far along she was.

  Matthew answered this question as Lauren was called away by the timer going off on the oven.

  “She’s about twelve weeks along. Today, we were able to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

  I nodded enthusiastically, even as the bile began to rise up in my throat.

  “That’s great,” I said, prying my fingers away from the granite. “You know what? I think I left my curling iron on in my room. I’m just going to go check before we eat. I’ll be right back.”

  Before allowing him an opportunity to respond, I had made it halfway down the hall. He was so caught up in the moment of the big reveal, he didn’t seem to notice my hasty retreat. Or the fact that my face had practically turned green.

  I ran past the guest bathroom, which would have been closer, into the relative safety of my bedroom, carefully locking both the bedroom door and the master bathroom door behind me. I barely made it to the stool, raising up the lid before the nausea got the best of me and I unceremoniously threw up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  (Past Tense)

  The pregnancy test felt like a lead weight in my hand as I carried the tiny paper bag into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. There really was no need for the privacy; I was alone, but it just didn’t feel like something that should be done out in the open. I’d strategically driven across town to purchase it even though I was now budget conscious and shouldn’t be wasting gas money. But the risk of being in my own neighborhood and having someone I knew see me was worth the added expense. I didn’t need anyone to know. People knew too much about me - about my family - anyway.