Designed

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Designed Page 28

by Alicia Renee Kline


  “Can you believe this is happening?” I asked my friend.

  She smiled, her face a mixture of happiness and exhaustion. “No, not really.”

  “Well, tonight I bet it will feel real.” I laughed. “No nursery to pass her off to at three in the morning.”

  “Don’t remind us,” Matthew joked. “I think we’re better off if we go into it fully oblivious.”

  “I’ve always heard that you need to sleep when the baby is sleeping,” I advised, wondering how I had become the one to dispense sage advice. If that wasn’t ironic, I wasn’t sure what was. “Though that will be hard to do, because you’ll just want to keep looking at that pretty little face.”

  I knelt down and peered into the car seat. Sadie was wearing the stocking hat from the hospital, bundled up to her chin in a thick pink blanket. Her tiny head was cocked to one side, her chubby cheeks in motion even in slumber. I wanted so badly to pick her up and cradle her but refrained, afraid of waking her up.

  “Ready to see it?” I asked instead as I rose back up to my full height.

  “Sure,” Lauren said as enthusiastically as she could muster. I could tell she wasn’t quite back to herself yet. She was, in effect, a slow motion clone of the person I knew.

  The five of us moved down the hallway to Sadie’s new room. My brother did the honors of carrying his daughter in one hand, his other arm wrapped around Lauren’s waist. I slid my fingers into Chris’s hand as we followed behind, relishing the heat that passed between us. Funny how an attraction that was decades old could feel so new and strong.

  Sadie’s door was closed, just as I’d left it. Chris and I had met Will over here earlier to put the finishing touches on her room before the proud parents arrived. The men had moved the furniture while I had supervised and tended to the bedding and curtains. Will had slipped out, not wanting to be here for the homecoming - he was only a silent partner in the festivities. To be honest, I felt kind of sorry for the guy; he seemed to be having a rough go at it. He’d made some excuse about needing to get some sleep before his next shift, but I’d seen through it. When I’d shot a look of concern over at Chris, he’d merely shrugged.

  “Close your eyes,” I ordered, brushing past them to place my hand on the doorknob. They both did as instructed and I swung the door open with a flourish. Again, the nervous energy bubbled in my stomach, my fear that they wouldn’t approve taking hold of me and refusing to let go. I composed myself as best I could and announced, “Okay. Here it is.”

  Matthew, Lauren and - by default - Sadie stepped over the threshold to see the whole thing for themselves. For a moment of tense silence, they simply stared, taking in the sight. My body instinctively went rigid, expecting the worst. Chris squeezed my hand supportively.

  “It’s perfect, Blake,” he whispered in my ear, “you’ll see.”

  Goose bumps erupted on my arms, the proximity of him unsettling. I wasn’t sure what endeared me more to him: the warmth of his breath on my neck or the thought of him saying something complimentary.

  “Oh, Blake,” Lauren said finally, “it’s wonderful.”

  I tried to view the space through her eyes, seeing it for the first time. This was a game I played with myself in regards to all of my clients. Since I obviously wasn’t surprised by the outcome since I had planned the entire thing, I tried to imagine what it would be like going blindly into the big reveal. Even if I had followed instructions to the letter on what the particular person wanted, there was always an element of shock on their face at seeing it come together. In the rare event that I was given free rein, the reaction was that much more satisfying. To date, I’d never experienced a failure of epic proportions when it had come to design. This particular creation was no exception.

  Lauren moved slowly about the room, running her hand over the crib railing, taking the edge of the bedding between her thumb and fingers and touching the dresser top before finally settling into the rocking chair. She tried to discreetly wipe the moisture from her eyes, but I caught her.

  “It’s just what I would have wanted,” she said simply. She gestured to her husband. “Don’t you think?”

  “Blake never disappoints.” Matthew smiled.

  I begged to differ, but decided that my argument would fall on deaf ears given the present company. Instead, I automatically deferred the praise, refusing to be wholly responsible. “It wasn’t just me. Will helped move some stuff earlier today, and Chris and Gracie did a lot of this.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Chris told me, “we all know that without you this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Heat rose yet again to my cheeks. As silly as it seemed, the center of attention had never been my favorite place. Besides, today was not about me - it was about Sadie, or at the very least, her parents.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it, honey,” Lauren said. Her hazel eyes took in the sight of Chris and me standing before her, hands clasped together. Her eyebrows raised, a pointed look aimed at her husband.

  Matthew took the bait. “Hey,” he addressed Chris, “why don’t we leave the women alone to talk baby?”

  Chris shrugged, playing along. Clearly, they were aware that once they left our presence, we’d begin gossiping about what Lauren had missed out on. Because of her abrupt labor and delivery, we’d not yet gotten around to truly discussing the status of my relationship struggles. Despite the weariness on her face, she was making me a priority.

  Chris untangled his fingers from mine, trailing Matthew out of the room. He latched the door behind them, allowing us the utmost privacy.

  “So things are good?” Lauren asked.

  “I’d say so,” I demurred.

  “I’m so happy for you two. If anyone deserves a good turn of events, it’s you.”

  I walked past where she was seated to stand in front of the window. I looked outside, staring past the trees, the heavily wooded lot blurring in my vision. I’d spent so much time here once, looking out this very window into oblivion. The answers I’d been hoping to find years ago had always alluded me. Now I knew that they’d been hidden inside myself instead, not out in the open trying to flag me down.

  “It was a long time coming,” I admitted.

  “You hid it well. For a long time, I wished I could be like you.”

  I turned to her, not understanding.

  “I used to compare myself to you. We both had serious relationships in high school. I stayed with Eric long after I should have, but I was too afraid to cut the ties and be alone. I admired you. You were able to admit to yourself that things weren’t working out with Chris and you broke up with him. Until I knew the reason why, I thought it was just you declaring yourself as an independent woman. You seemed like everything was okay - kind of. Everyone gets sad and misty-eyed sometimes over lost loves. I didn’t think it was anything deeper than that.”

  “I’m a passable liar.”

  “Obviously. And it’s time for me to eat crow.”

  “Nah. On the surface, we were exactly alike. And it was therapeutic in a way to commiserate with you. To hear about your idiot ex and pretend that my troubles were as shallow. To think that Chris and I had just had a simple argument and ended things. People break up for less every day. I wanted to push all the bad down and forget it ever happened. I thought that if I kept it to myself, it would be easier to do. I was wrong.”

  “I’m glad you ended up telling him. Even if it wouldn’t have led to whatever it’s leading to, at least you had closure. At least everything was out in the open and you didn’t have to hide things anymore.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself, Lauren.”

  “No, I understand. You have to admit, I laid things on pretty thick.”

  “You were happy, as you should have been. And I chickened out, letting my brother do the dirty work. I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Matthew just took care of you for a change. You don’t always have to be the strong one. But if you ever need to talk about it
, let me know. I’ll listen; Lord knows you heard enough of my drama.”

  “Thanks. Turns out we’re more alike in some ways we never expected. You could write a book on grief for someone you never really knew. I’ve got one of those in me, too.”

  Lauren smiled. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

  “You can say that again. But somehow, some way, the sun still shines and we have to get past it and move on. You went first. I can only hope to follow in your footsteps.”

  “It helps if you believe in happy endings. I know I do.”

  Sadie chose to make her presence known then, emitting a squeak from her car seat. We both looked over in her direction to see her wide awake. Lauren rose from the rocking chair to tend to the newest addition to our family. The immediate bond, the unconditional love between mother and child was evident in the way that my friend picked up my niece and cradled her in her arms.

  I smiled, finally able to feel at peace with things I couldn’t change. “I’m beginning to.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Much like we had when we began dating the first time, Chris and I settled into a routine that didn’t include announcing ourselves as anything to anyone. Our relationship just kind of happened. We fell into each other’s life as simply as if we’d turned on a light switch. One day, he was just there again as if we hadn’t just come off of a ten year break. I much preferred it that way: the drama between us rooted firmly in the past.

  The only source of contention in the new and improved version of us was my bed.

  “It’s round,” Chris reminded me.

  “You’re a genius.”

  We stared across my breakfast bar at one another. Dinners had become far less crowded; instead of adding Chris to the mix, Matthew and Lauren had bowed out of our nightly meal arrangements. I missed her cooking, but the four of us got to sample it on Friday nights when we all joined together at their house - Chris’s schedule permitting. The rest of the week I ate on my own, Chris stopping by when he could. To say his work hours were erratic was an understatement. Tonight, he had stopped by the drive through and picked up hamburgers on his way over. I secretly wondered if he wasn’t trying to make me gain weight. Perhaps his preferences had changed.

  “The last time I looked, neither one of us were round.”

  “Again, a point well taken, Captain Obvious.”

  “So what in the world made you think it would be a good idea to sleep in something not suited to our more rectangular shape?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I played along, “maybe something like being cutting edge. Perhaps something more masochistic was involved, considering what a bitch it is to make a round fitted sheet. But it’s a conversation piece, for sure. I have a picture of my bedroom in my portfolio. It always gets comments, but no one’s asked for one.”

  “Two things. First: I’m not sure how I feel about other people looking at pictures of your bedroom. Second: that’s because everyone else is sane, unlike you.”

  I shot him a good-natured dirty look. “Those are fighting words, considering the fact that I’m pretty sure you like being invited to my bedroom.”

  “I never said I liked my women sane. I just like my sleeping area to be conventional.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Your ‘women’?”

  Chris looked down at my granite countertop, unable to keep up the ruse. Though we hadn’t sat down and played the numbers game like Matthew and Lauren had, I was certain I was in the lead by far. And no, thirty-seven wasn’t a lot. In fact, it could have been child’s play.

  But my heart had only ever belonged to the one that stood in front of me, and he knew it.

  We burst into uncontrollable laughter. It felt so good for once to have my face streaked with tears of joy, to be able to look across my kitchen at the love of my life and know he belonged there. I dried my eyes with my fingers and stood there for a moment, taking everything in.

  “Want to go furniture shopping?” I suggested.

  He consulted his cell before answering. “Unfortunately, it’s eight o’clock on a Sunday evening. Doubtful that any place will be open still.”

  “You goon, I didn’t mean right now. Unless we look online.”

  His face fell in mock disappointment.

  I matched the expression. “So this means that neither one of us is going to get lucky tonight? You’re going to withhold sex because you don’t like my mattress? That’s a new one.”

  “Because I’m certain you’ve heard them all.”

  “No, Chris, people never give me excuses. Sorry, you must have me confused with your own dance card.”

  “I’m glad to see the witty never left.”

  “Nah, it was just in hibernation. So what does your schedule look like tomorrow?”

  “Wide open. I have the day off.”

  “So, we’ll get this plan in motion then. Consider yourself booked for a day of walking through furniture stores so you can tell me exactly what passes your muster. In the meantime, we need to think of a contingency plan. Because I’m not so sure I can go without.”

  “Just like that?” Chris seemed surprised.

  “Like what?”

  “You give in over something so easily? I expected more of a fight.”

  “It’s a bed, Chris, nothing more. I redecorate things for people at the drop of a hat.”

  “Maybe I should have asked for more,” he teased, clearly eating the whole situation up.

  “Try me.”

  “Well then. I have a Plan B for tonight. My place.”

  I shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Really? My little shoebox of a house is an approved place for a rendezvous?”

  “Where else would we do it? The only other places I could think of would be my studio and that would be even more uncomfortable, or Matthew and Lauren’s and they’re having Gracie over today.”

  “And if your brother didn’t have a guest, then that would be acceptable? Just tie a sock around the doorknob and it’s like olden times?”

  “Oh shut up. Just give me ten minutes and I’ll get some stuff together.”

  He rolled his eyes at me.

  “Your soap smells like shit,” I lied, remembering the last time I’d been there. I’d lingered in his shower the night of the wedding longer than I’d intended, breathing in his scent.

  “Whatever.”

  “You’re driving!” I called over my shoulder.

  I left him to clean up our dinner mess, going to the master bedroom alone. I latched the door gently behind me, realizing that I’d never packed an overnight bag before. There’d never been a need; I was the type that never stayed. And up until now, Chris had either suffered by curling up - literally - in my bed, or taking off for his own place.

  “I’m so weird,” I muttered to myself as I searched my closet for a bag suitable for some lingerie, a change of clothes and limited toiletries. I finally decided on an old tote bag that I’d shoved far in the back, obtained from some paint company giving them out as free advertising. I had no idea why I’d even kept it. I threw in a button down shirt and a pair of jeans, then headed over to my dresser for the rest.

  Another thing I’d never had to consider until recently was what to wear to bed. Usually, it wasn’t anything more complicated than a pair of flannel shorts and a tank top, but I’d slowly begun to build my collection of more feminine night things. I only wore them when I knew Chris would be around, much preferring the feel of my comfortable standbys. But the look of appreciation on his face when I turned up in a negligee was worth the momentary itchiness. It rarely stayed on long anyway.

  I grabbed a black and electric blue lacy thing that should have come with directions and wadded it up into the bag, then pulled my shampoo, conditioner and body wash out of the shower. As I left the bathroom, I scooped up my toothbrush and stood in the doorway for a moment, feeling like I was forgetting something. Realizing it was just my confidence, I shook my head and walked out to meet up with him.

  He had vacated t
he kitchen and moved out to the living room, perching himself on my couch. Upon hearing me come down the hall, he turned his attention to me.

  “Took you long enough,” he joked, rising to his feet.

  I flipped him off as I passed through to the breakfast nook to collect my purse from the table. We laced fingers as we walked out the front door, letting go for the briefest amount of time to allow me to lock up. Then right back to touching as he escorted me to the passenger side of his car. He opened my door for me and helped me inside. I closed my eyes as I settled into the cloth interior of the Civic, giving myself the slightest pinch to make sure this was real.

  It was so easy to pretend that it was a decade ago. When he touched me, when he looked at me, I could nearly believe that he was picking me up from my parents’ house, whisking me off to some party or some other place. I could almost forget everything that had happened since: Matthew’s second arrest, the fallout with my father, the loss of our child. But one look at his face as he assumed the driver’s seat beside me confirmed that all of that had really happened. Chris and I had both grown, our faces slightly more weathered by the years of turmoil and confusion I’d needlessly created.

  We were no longer the people that we’d been then, the youthful pair with their lives ahead of them. When our relationship had been at its prime way back then, we hadn’t had a care in the world. So of course, the moment that we had, we’d not known how to deal with it. If everything hadn’t have happened the way it had, it would have been doubtful we’d ever have ended up back together. In some twisted way, we’d needed obstacles to overcome to prove how much we loved each other.

 

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