Road to Reality (Road Series Book 3)

by Ann, Natalie

  Text Copyright 2015 Natalie Ann

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without a written consent.

  Dedication: To Lori, the sister I’ve always wanted. ‘Zoe’ would never have been so perfect without Hailey!

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Follow Natalie Ann on Twitter

  Website http://www.natalieannbooks.com

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Angel

  It Hurts

  Good Mother

  Ruby Ring

  Princess Room

  Mac and Cheese

  Major Hotness

  Compliments

  Naptime

  His Loss

  Up

  Falling

  Just Let Go

  Bad Childhood

  Chocolate

  Fireworks

  You Will

  Considerate

  Why

  Childless Night

  Night Out

  Teenage Dreams

  Favorite Part

  Princess Party

  Shame

  Patience

  Comfort

  Hearts

  Mean Witch

  Made More

  Neutral

  Feel Better

  Secret

  Another

  Mine

  Same Name

  Epilogue

  More Books

  Prologue

  “Melinda! Get me another beer,” Scott Campbell yelled from his spot on the old ratty recliner, sweat visibly dripping down his forehead.

  “Get it yourself! You’ve got two legs. Use them, you fat slob.”

  It was hotter than hell in the kitchen. Melinda lifted one hand to wipe the sweat from her face, noticed it was covered with instant mashed potatoes, and used her forearm instead. An empty beer can flew past her waist causing her to spill some of the yellow powder she was shaking into the bowl of overcooked macaroni. Turning quickly, eyes sharp as steel, she pinned her husband with a look meant to kill. “If you throw one more can at me I’m gonna shove it where the sun don’t shine!”

  “Then get me another damn beer like I asked!”

  “I’m cooking dinner! Either get up and get it yourself, or wait. You ain’t getting one from me right now.” Her voice rose above the hissing sound of the oscillating fan that was doing little in the way of providing any relief from the sweltering heat of the summer currently baking through the small metal trailer. It didn’t even blow the steam from the noodles away from her.

  When the microwave beeped, she turned and pulled out another steaming hot container of food, this time canned corn. Singeing the tips of her fingers, she mumbled under her breath, “Damn. How the hell am I supposed to hold scissors now?”

  She squinted at Scott sitting in the living room. He was making no attempt to help her get dinner on the table. Nothing new there, she thought with disdain. Then wrinkled her nose when she saw him stick his finger in his ear, look at it funny and wipe it on his discolored tank top. As if that wasn’t disgusting enough, the shirt didn’t even cover his overly large hairy gut.

  The wrinkle became a scowl when she saw him pick up a lighter. “Are those my cigarettes?” she asked, leaning further into the living room. Since the living room was right off the kitchen, she didn’t have far to lean.

  “Mine are gone. You won’t miss one.”

  “Maybe if you bought your own you wouldn’t need to steal mine all the time. And you better not smoke them all, I’m on shift tomorrow and you know I need them to get through the day.”

  “Can’t buy none if I don’t got no money, now can I?” he replied back sarcastically.

  “Then get a job.” She turned back to her hurried dinner.

  “I had a job. Not my fault those idiots can’t understand I overslept. It’s third shift, I needed a nap before I showed up. I can’t make it through the night without one.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe if it weren’t the fifth time your ass showed up late this month they might not have cared.” It was the fourth job he’d had in the last year. There weren’t many jobs in the small rural upstate New York town as it was, and he was running out of options at this point. He would be lucky to find another job within a year at the rate he was going.

  Balancing all three bowls in her arms at once, not even caring about the heat anymore—what was another hot thing when it was over ninety outside and equally as hot in the trailer—she said, “Dinner’s ready. Where’s Beth?”

  “How the hell should I know? Probably in her room hiding or talking to that stupid doll of hers. Something is wrong with that kid and she needs her head examined. All she does is sit in her room talking to them two nasty dolls of hers all day long.”

  “You have one thing to do and that’s watch her all day, and you can’t even do that,” she said, stomping back to the kitchen for paper plates and plastic forks. “Why don’t you take her outside to play or something? Then maybe you’d realize that’s what little girls do, play and talk to dolls.”

  Scott ignored her, like always. No way was he going to stand out in the heat to watch his kid run around. That’d be too much work. He’d rather sweat in the comfort of his own home, she thought in disgust.

  Melinda watched as he heaved himself out of the recliner and tried not to cringe. The sucking sound of his sweaty legs sticking to the cracked plastic leather echoed in the room.

  Making his way the three short steps to the old linoleum-covered table and plastic lawn chairs, he looked at the dinner in front of him. “What the hell’s this?”

  She glanced at the three bowls closer. They did seem kind of nasty—the mashed potatoes resembling white paper mushed together, yellow-covered swollen noodles in the bowl next to that, and finally a can of corn. “Dinner, it fills a plate. What more do you want? Get a job, then maybe we can have something else.”

  Wiping the remains of the yellow powder on her black polyester pants, she walked a few steps and yelled down the tiny hallway toward one of the two bedrooms. “Beth! Dinner time!”

  ***

  Beth heard everything word for word; it was hard not to in a trailer that small.

  She held an old Barbie in one hand—that had belonged to someone else in a past life—and an even older Ken doll in the other hand. “Don’t worry,” the Ken doll said to the Barbie doll. “I’ll save you. You can count on me.”

  The Barbie doll, a little bit of marker on her face and wearing a dirty faded dress with one missing sneaker, turned to look at the Ken doll that was wearing only a pair of ratty shorts. “Please hurry. Take me away.”

  Angel

  Beth Campbell slammed the door to her used Honda Civic after grabbing her tote-sized purse from the passenger seat. With her purse on her shoulder, she rounded the back of her car neatly parked next to her landlady’s Buick in the small two-car driveway.

  Opening the trunk, she grabbed all five grocery bags at once, then shut the trunk with her elbow and made her way up the three wooden steps of the porch where Mrs. Wilks was holding the door open for her. “Sweetie, you didn’t need to grab them all at once. I was coming out to help.”

  “I’ve got them, Mrs. Wilks. Thanks anyway,” Beth replied, moving past the older woman who had become invaluable to her since she moved into the first floor apartment over a month ago. “Any problems?” Beth asked as she made her way through the living room of th
e tiny two-bedroom apartment.

  Mrs. Wilks sat down at the small kitchen table while Beth neatly and efficiently pulled food out of the bags and put them away. “None at all. She’s always a little angel. Napping like one right now, too.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for watching Zoe for me. It’s a load off my mind knowing she’s so well cared for.” With the last of the food stored away, Beth turned and poured two glasses of iced tea that she knew Mrs. Wilks had brewed earlier. Beth had a million things to do and wanted to get to them, especially knowing she could do them faster with Zoe sleeping. But her landlady loved to chat, and it was the least she could do since Mrs. Wilks spent her Saturday watching Zoe for her.

  “Thank you, dear. You know I love to do it. You two dolls have brought so much happiness to this old house. It was the best day of my life was when I rented this place to you.”

  Beth knew Mrs. Wilks meant it. It was nice to know she brought a little bit of joy to someone’s life, rather than always being in the way. “Has Zoe been sleeping long? Give you any trouble?”

  Mrs. Wilks looked at the clock. “Not long, about an hour. She’s no trouble at all. Zoe has to be the only child I know who says she is ready for a nap. What’s your secret?” she asked before taking a large gulp of her ice tea.

  “No secret. I’m lucky. She’s pretty great, and has always been that way. She slept through the night early on, entertains herself when I’m cooking dinner or cleaning, and always goes to bed without an issue.” Beth laughed. “It’s like having a dream child.”

  If she was going to be a single mother at the ripe age of twenty-five, she couldn’t have asked for a better child. Not that getting pregnant at twenty-one was part of her dream, not at all. However, Beth gave up on dreams a long time ago.

  “How was work today?” Mrs. Wilks asked.

  “Busy. Saturdays always are. I picked up some pretty good tips today, though, so that’s always a plus.” She winked. “It’s hard being new and trying to build a client base, but Mitchell has been wonderful referring some of his clients to me. Taking out the big advertisement announcing my arrival also helped. So all and all, it seems to be working out. No regrets, that’s for sure.”

  After finishing off the last of her tea and placing the glass in the dishwasher, Mrs. Wilks turned to leave. “Well, I will get out of your way. I’m sure you’ve got things to do.”

  Beth walked her landlady to the front door that led to the enclosed staircase for the apartment above. “Another exciting day of laundry, but I’m hoping to take Zoe to the park before dinner.”

  “Have fun, dear. I’ll see you Monday morning. You’re going in around ten, right?”

  “Yes, see you then,” Beth said, shutting the door.

  After a quick check on Zoe, who was still sleeping—just like the angel Mrs. Wilks called her—in the small bedroom, Beth ran to her room at the front of the house. Well, it was really only another room away. She quickly exchanged her flowered capris and red top for gray shorts and a pink shirt.

  Her work clothes were still clean thanks to the smock she always wore. But she hated that she could faintly smell the chemicals on them, so into the washer they were going, along with the rest of the week’s clothes. With any luck she could get a load washed and dried before Zoe woke up.

  ***

  “Have a nice afternoon, Dr. Malone,” Ashley, one of the nurses in the pediatric wing of the hospital called out to him as he was walking through the security doors. He lifted his hand up in return and sent her a smile, then bit back a sigh when a blush appeared on her face.

  It should be old by now. But it wasn’t getting old here, nor had it at the last hospital he worked at in Burlington. Fletcher Allen was much bigger than Saratoga Hospital, except size didn’t seem to matter in the least. The nurses always had their eyes on the doctors. It wasn’t cliché at all, but rather the truth.

  He understood. It was hard not to be drawn to each other. Doctors and nurses worked closely together, oftentimes during periods of crisis where emotions were running high. A bond of trust should be formed. At least he liked to form a bond with the nurses he worked with. He wanted to know that he could depend on them, and they on him. A patient’s life could be at stake and he always put the patient first.

  But frequently mixed signals could be sent out. He tried to be aware of what he was saying and doing at all times, always keeping interactions on a professional level. He couldn’t help it if he was a nice guy who cared about the staff around him. It helped him connect with the staff he worked with by asking about their lives now and again, and getting to know them a bit. That didn’t mean he was hitting on them or flirting with them.

  Unfortunately, no matter how hard he discouraged any flirting—and he had been flirted with plenty—he never flirted back with a co-worker. Ever. Work was work, and he liked to keep it just that simple.

  Shaking his head to clear it, he walked to his car, climbed in, and drove away. Minutes later he arrived at the park, drove around the block a few times, then saw a great spot right next the playground. Quickly parking, he grabbed his phone, popped his ear buds in, then turned the music down low so that he could still hear his surroundings.

  ***

  Zoe took off on a run ahead of her mother when she saw the playground come into view. “Slow down, Zoe, it’s not going anywhere,” Beth said, grinning at her daughter’s excitement.

  “Mommy, look.” Zoe pointed ahead of her. “Big slide.”

  Beth watched Zoe’s thin legs eat up the ground in front of her. Zoe took after her mother in stature, long thin legs and a willowy frame. Like Beth was as a child—the stick-kid she’d been pointed out as and made fun of growing up—with endless thin legs, not much muscle. She was just plain skinny, always so skinny. No matter what she did, she couldn’t gain weight.

  Most girls dieted nonstop to get Beth’s body, but she wanted to put a few pounds on and have some curves, not look so much like a boy. But it was the body she was born with, so she made the best of it. It seemed like Zoe was going to have the same figure.

  “I see, honey, it’s a big slide, but slow down, please. I don’t want you to trip and fall,” Beth said, rushing forward to keep up with her overactive daughter.

  “I won’t trip, Mommy,” Zoe said with a little giggle. She was always giggling, such a happy, sweet-natured child. If there was one thing to be grateful for, it was that there were no remnants of Zoe’s father there. Not in her stature, her looks or her personality. Thank God for small favors, Beth reminded herself.

  Zoe finally reached the slide. Her pink-and-white sneaker-clad feet climbed the ladder on the wooden playground structure. Then she stopped halfway up and pushed a lock of her curly blonde hair out of her face. “Come here, honey. Let me tie your hair back first.”

  “No, Mommy, I want it down. It’s pretty down,” Zoe said, dual dimples appearing on her cherub cheeks.

  “Yes, Zoe, you have very pretty curly hair, but it won’t stay pretty if you leave it down while you play. Please, can Mommy put it in a ponytail? Just a quick one on top of your head so your curls bounce around. That’s your favorite, right?”

  “I like bouncy curls.” Zoe complied, running back toward Beth, who deftly secured the curls in place and out of Zoe’s eyes. Once done, Zoe raced back to the wooden play structure. “Watch, Mommy, watch,” Zoe said with a squeal, climbing to the top of the slide.

  “Wait, Zoe. Let me meet you at the bottom, don’t go yet. Do you hear me?” Beth reminded Zoe before she could push her way down the curvy twisting slide.

  “I wait, but you hurry.”

  “I’ll hurry.” Beth smiled at Zoe’s eagerness. Always doing what she was told, even if it wasn’t at the pace she wanted. “I’m ready. Let’s see how fast you can go. I’ll catch you.”

  Zoe pushed off. The wind hit her face, her ponytail waved about, and she threw her arms up in delight for Beth to catch her at the bottom, screaming with excitement on the way down. “Fun! I do it again,�
�� Zoe said after her feet hit the dirt, then ran back around to climb the steps for a second time.

  After four trips down the slide, Beth talked Zoe into another wooden structure full of mazes and tunnels. A structure that would allow Beth to get off her feet for a few minutes and watch from the picnic table close by. Having been on her feet since eight that morning, Beth was anxious to sit for a few minutes.

  She watched Zoe pop in and out of the yellow plastic tunnels, make her way across tiny bridges, up and down stairs, and then run across the grass with endless bursts of energy. Oh, to be that energetic again.

  Beth started to stand when she noticed Zoe making her way toward a set of monkey bars. It was much higher off the ground than Zoe should even be considering. “Zoe,” Beth warned loudly, then she took off in a run, except she wasn’t fast enough as Zoe scrambled up the rungs.

  It Hurts

  Mac was making his way back to his car after running for close to forty minutes when he heard a child’s scream, followed by a shout. He turned, saw a young woman racing toward a child on the ground at the playground, and took off in a sprint.

  “Zoe!” the woman had yelled as she rushed to the tiny form on the ground. The child was lying on her back, not responding. “Zoe!”

  She started to pick her up when Mac shouted, “Don’t move her.”

  Mac hadn’t seen what happened, but he could hazard a guess. The little girl on the ground was unmoving and he needed to see what injuries she had before anyone touched her. “I’m a doctor; don’t touch her. Let me look at her.”

  The woman scooted back and knelt down by Zoe’s body. He appreciated that she did as she was told and didn’t just react out of fear.

  Mac found the little girl’s pulse and made a mental note it was rapid at the moment. He gently placed his hands behind her head and discovered a bump starting to form under his fingers. At the touch of his fingers, the little girl moved and opened her eyes. Bright blue and confused.