Left Hanging

by Cindy Dorminy

He dabs his eyes. “Maybe.”

  “Stella, he cries at movies… a lot. I thought he was going to make a scene during that romantic comedy we saw once.”

  “Hey,” Isaac says. “Jonah’s mom dies, and he wants a new wife for his dad. It’s so sweet.” He snatches another tissue and dabs the tears from the corners of his eyes.

  “Hey, Isaac,” Stella says. “Maybe we can go find my daddy.”

  Isaac’s eyes widen.

  “Okay, sweetie, time for bed.”

  “Aww,” Isaac and Stella moan.

  “Bed,” I say. They both head to her bedroom, heads hanging low.

  “I meant Stella.”

  Isaac gives her a smooch and runs back to the couch to fumble through the bag of cookies.

  After I have Stella neatly tucked into her bed, I stand over Isaac, tapping my toe. “Checking up on me?”

  “Well, after the whole Romeo and Juliet scene, I needed to make sure you were okay… and to apologize for laughing at you. That was evil.” He leans back on the couch, looking as if he has confessed to a triple homicide. Boy, that whole apology thing wasn’t easy for him to spit out.

  I focus on anything but his face. “Apology accepted.”

  “What is it with this guy?”

  I groan. Isaac pats the seat cushion next to him, and in a split second, my anger toward him is gone. I need to tell him everything.

  I take one more peek down the hallway toward Stella’s room. “Okay. I’ll tell you.”

  He flings his shoes off and folds his legs under him. If I didn’t know any better, I would think we were having a sleepover like we did back in the day. The only things missing are pillow fights and prank calls to old boyfriends. But the night is still young.

  Isaac bats the tears from his eyes. I roll mine. He’s the most emotional person I’ve ever known, and I love him for it.

  He fans his face. “That’s the most romantic thing ever.”

  “Oh, please. It’s cute, but romantic?”

  “Why haven’t you ever told me that story before?”

  I shrug. “I guess I didn’t want to relive it. It’s embarrassing.”

  All of a sudden, he gasps so loudly, it sounds as if he is sucking in all the air in the room. I sneak a peek over my shoulder to make sure he hasn’t woken up Stella.

  “Oh! My! God! That’s why you named her Stella.”

  I nod. “It was all I had of him. I wanted her to have some connection to him, regardless of whether he wanted us or not.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “That is so sweet. I remember trying to convince you to name her a dozen different names, but you were hell-bent on naming her Stella. Makes sense now. You know, I spent so much time scratching my head, trying to figure things out. You weren’t the type to sleep around. None of it made sense to me. But who am I to judge? I kept my opinions to myself and helped any way I could.”

  After what feels like an eternity, I finally continue. “I know it all sounds crazy, but I really liked him. I had only known him a few hours, but I felt like I had known him my whole life. He was different. He made me feel something I had never felt before.”

  “That’s not crazy. That’s love.”

  I snort. “I have no idea what love feels like. All I know is that seeing him again after all this time sent a shockwave of emotions back into my soul.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  I sigh. “I don’t know.”

  Isaac puts on his shoes and takes out his keys. “But you have one thing wrong in your story. You said you really liked him.”

  “I did like him.”

  He wags his index finger in front of my nose. “Your eyes dance when you talk about him. You like him. Present tense.”

  I rub my face with my hands. I know it’s true, but Theo chose medical school and Mallory. He flat-out didn’t want us, even after I sent him a picture of the sonogram. I thought that even if he didn’t care about me anymore, he would at least want to be in his daughter’s life. I’ve kept a copy of the “leave me alone” email all these years. It’s dog-eared and tear-stained, but I can’t throw it away. I wasn’t enough for him seven years ago, and I’m still not enough for him today, not even with a precious child as a bonus prize.

  “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter how I feel.”

  Isaac gives me a hug. “Would it make a difference if I told you I talked to him in the cafeteria a little while ago?”

  I push him away and swat at his arm. “You didn’t.”

  “Ow. It wasn’t planned, but I can tell you this—he’s really glad he found you. And… he’s not in a relationship anymore.”

  Heat rushes up my neck. I need some Propranolol, stat. “Really?”

  He rubs his arm where I hit him. “I know what you should do.” His eyebrows dance up and down, and he makes kissie faces at me.

  I push him out the door. “Go home.”

  He giggles all the way to his car. “Don’t be afraid of being happy,” he calls back at me. “You deserve it.”

  Aww. I love my buddy.

  “Bye, Juliet.”

  I put my finger to my lips to remind him not to tell anyone. He does the same. Even though he sometimes has loose lips, I know he would never hurt me by telling something as sensitive as what I’ve confessed to him.

  As he drives away, I think about the story I told him. Remembering was fun. But of course, I left out some parts—like the way Theo kept eye contact with me and kissed me as if he really loved me. He was either good at pretending, or he really felt something between us too. I remember that he wasn’t in any hurry for me to leave. He was perfectly content to sleep curled up with me. And it was the best sleep I have ever had in my life. I just wish our beginning wasn’t also our ending. I wish I had been good enough for him.

  All those questions Stella was asking tonight confirm to me that she needs to know her father. Even if he didn’t think he wanted her before she was born, he won’t be able to resist her now. I deserve answers, and he deserves a second chance to know his daughter. How I’m going to do this… I have no idea. Perhaps with a friendly conversation over a hot cup of coffee and maybe a game of Truth or Dare sprinkled in.

  Chapter Eleven

  Theo

  “Make sure you pick up the mail every day,” Jennifer says.

  “Okay,” I reply as I drag her luggage to the check-in counter at the airport. Matt follows behind us, lugging more bags.

  “Oh, and Wednesdays are trash days.”

  “Got it.”

  We’ve gone over this a dozen times, she’s left me a detailed list on her refrigerator, and she’s sent it to me by email… twice. We’ve moved up in line a mere inch. This is going to take a while. I could find a cure for some rare diseases faster than this.

  I eyeball Matt, Jennifer’s husband. Even ten years out of college, he still maintains his quarterback physique. I’ll never forget the way he couldn’t get enough of my sister at their wedding. He looked at her as though she were the only person in the church, his beginning and end.

  Jennifer says it wasn’t his handsome face she was attracted to, even though he is a damn fine-looking dude if I say so myself. She said it was his eyes that got her. His pale-blue eyes would sparkle and make her feel as though she were the most important person in the world, no matter what she did or said. And she likes his hands. I don’t even know what that means. Maybe I don’t want to know. All I do know is that he adores my sister even when she mother-hens us, like she’s doing right now. Matt grins at me. He knows as well as I do that I know all these details already, but I let her ramble. She’s my big sister, and neither of us would trade her thoroughness for all the tea in China.

  “Darlin’, everything will be fine,” Matt says.

  She takes a deep breath. His warm
Southern drawl is the only thing that can calm her down.

  I scan the airport to distance myself from Jen’s chatter. One of the kids from her class is in another line, holding an ice cream cone. If I point her out to Jen, my sister will get out of line, and we’ll have to start this process all over again, so I keep it to myself. It’s the little girl that helped me check my blood sugar. She’s with a tall female that could be a dark-haired version of Mallory from what I can see. The fancy purse and watch the woman wears are probably worth enough to pay off my student loans. The lady flips her hair around as she chats on her phone.

  The little girl sits on her Dora the Explorer suitcase and takes a long lick of her ice cream cone. She catches my eye and grins. I wave to her, and she gives me the cutest little finger wave back.

  Matt bumps me to move forward. Yes! Progress. Finally, Jen and Matt are at the counter. My services of taxi and valet are complete. Matt and I knuckle-bump.

  “Let me know if you need me to call in a prescription for promethazine. Nausea can be bad with those big waves.”

  He chuckles. “I’m hoping we’ll be making our own waves.”

  Jen pops him on the arm. “Matt. I can’t believe you said that.”

  I give her a hug, enjoying the pink flush across her neck. “You got all weird on me the other day at your school, and you’ve ignored my texts every time I’ve brought it up. What’s up?” I wish she was going to be around this summer. I would love for it to be like it used to be before I went off to med school.

  She searches her purse and her pockets and withdraws her plane ticket. She stares at her feet and crumples her ticket in her tightly fisted hand.

  “They may need that in one piece.”

  She flattens it out.

  While Matt is checking his bags, I put my hands on her shoulders. “Talk to me.”

  Her eyes are trained on the floor. “Did you ever wish you could unsee or unhear something?”

  “Like the time I walked in on you and…”

  She pushes me away. “Don’t go there.”

  “Honey, they need your boarding pass and ID,” Matt says.

  Jennifer’s gaze moves from me to Matt then back to me. She wraps me in a big hug. “I have to go. I love you so much.”

  Matt shrugs.

  “I know.” I pry myself away from her. “The freak-out happened right after I mentioned Darla.”

  As soon as I utter Darla’s name, Jennifer gets that deer-in-the-headlights gaze again.

  A few gears click into place, but my brain cells run dry. “You don’t… nah. Impossible.”

  Matt places his hands on her shoulders and rotates Jennifer to face the check-in counter. “What’s possible is you’re going to make all those passengers behind us miss their planes.”

  “Have a great trip,” I say to them.

  She stares at me and opens her mouth to say something. Then she closes it and takes a deep breath. “We do need to talk, but I guess it will have to wait until I get back.”

  She stares at me as if she wants me to read her mind. Usually, I can read her like yesterday’s news, but this expression is new. I wish I could steal her away for five minutes to download her thoughts, but if I do, I will impede the progress of getting them through security. So I smile and act as though I’m oblivious, which isn’t hard for me.

  She sighs. “I’ll try to call or text you if I get cell service.”

  “Have fun,” I say as I make my way toward the security gates.

  My phone buzzes, and I unclip it from my waistband to read the text. I glance around to see if I’m being pranked before I read it again.

  It’s no longer Juliet. The name is now known.

  Wouldn’t you like to make her your own?

  She has a big secret, not sure how to spill.

  She doesn’t know how you’ll really feel.

  Go back to the beginning is how this quest starts.

  Head straight to the ruins where it all fell apart.

  Shhhh.

  “What the heck?” I check the phone number. It’s not one I recognize. I dial the number, and it goes straight to an anonymous voice mail.

  I replace the phone on my waistband clip, when someone yells, “Watch it!”

  My attention is so fixed on my phone that I’m not paying attention to my surroundings. Before I know it, I plow right over the little girl from Jennifer’s class, knocking her onto her bottom. She still holds her cone, but the ice cream lies in a blob next to her suitcase. The little girl’s bottom lip quivers.

  “Ugh,” the lady says, rolling her eyes.

  Yep, she’s a Mallory clone. I offer my hand to help the little girl to her feet, but her mother swats my hand away.

  “Why don’t you watch where you’re going? You almost ran over her.”

  The little girl wipes some ice cream off her dress.

  “I’m so sorry I messed up your ice cream.” Man, I would rather get my foot run over by a car than make this cute thing sad.

  She holds out her empty cone to me. “That’s okay, Dr. Theo.”

  She remembered my name? Aw. Adorable.

  “You know him?” the lady asks her.

  “Uh-huh,” the little girl replies.

  She rolls her eyes. “It figures in this town. I hate Nashville.”

  “He has diabetes.”

  “Very good,” I reply. “You’re… Stella, right?”

  Her eyes light up when she realizes I remember her, and she bounces. Yes, I remember the eyes and the bounce.

  I open my wallet and hand her a ten-dollar bill. “How about as soon as you get through security, you buy yourself another ice cream? Eat one for me too.”

  She takes the money, and her eyes flick up to her mother.

  The woman snatches it out of Stella’s hand and shoves it back into mine. “Nope. Please get out of the way. I’ll buy her one later.”

  “I’ll be sure to check my sugar before I eat it,” Stella says.

  I whistle in frustration at the little girl’s mom. “You do that.”

  Her mother gives her watch a once-over before her attention lands back on Stella.

  “Sorry, ma’am, for any inconvenience,” I say.

  She takes Stella by the hand and scampers down the concourse. Before they’re out of sight, Stella takes one more look at me over her shoulder. We exchange waves before the Mallory clone whisks her away.

  I clear my throat and sneak away, hoping I don’t get chewed out by anyone else today.

  All afternoon, I stay busy seeing patients in the clinic, but every thirty minutes, I get a reminder text to go back to the beginning, the frat house where Darla and I met. I’m not going to fall for a prank. I will not fall for a prank. Nope, I’m not going to where the frat house used to be. Not going to do it.

  Okay, maybe a peek. Whoever sent this to me knows I can’t resist a game. I don’t care if Mallory thought they were childish. They’re fun, and I love the challenge. Besides, this game has to do with Darla, my favorite game partner.

  When I’m done in the clinic, I saunter through the university campus, which is right next to the medical center. I head toward fraternity row, my old stomping ground. I mean, it is on the way to the parking lot… sort of. I walk down the street and see the empty lot where my fraternity house used to stand. Nothing has been built there since the fire. I saunter across the street, surveying the neighborhood behind me, in front of me, to my left, and to my right. I will not be pranked. I swear, if someone is playing a joke on me, I’m going to be pissed. The texts have to be from Darla. I can’t think of anyone else who knows where we met and how I can’t resist a game. She doesn’t have to go to all this trouble to tell me a secret, but I do love a good puzzle.

  I stop in my tracks when
I notice an envelope nailed to a tree in the middle of the yard. Checking out the surroundings, I creep over to the tree and see the name Romeo typed on the envelope. I snatch up the envelope, open it, and peer over my shoulder one more time before reading the contents.

  I knew you couldn’t sit this one out.

  Your interest is piqued, there’s no doubt.

  You’ll get a text in an hour or so.

  With details on how this fun game will go.

  I chuckle as I stash the note in my pocket and walk to my car, where I should have gone in the first place. “That’s real cute, Darla.”

  The pitiful rhyme sticks in my brain the entire drive home, and as soon as I enter my apartment complex, my phone buzzes. I retrieve it from my pocket and read the text.

  Rumor has it, you like to play games.

  Especially when it’s one special dame.

  So brush off your skills, if you think you can.

  Let’s play a fun game of Hangman.

  – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

  Choose your first letter.

  The message is signed, I’m not a stalker. I switch off the car and focus on the sentence. I’m good at this. I crack my knuckles and tap my fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Hmm.” I type the letter A and hit send. Before I take two steps away from my car, I receive another message.

  Good first choice. More chances to play coming soon after this message from our sponsor.

  – – – – A – – A – – – – – – – –

  “Oh, I’m good. Bahaha!”

  No cheating. If you tell anyone about this game, you’ll lose the grand prize.

  Damn, she’s serious.

  Chapter Twelve

  Darla

  Shelby clutches her chest and collapses into the chair next to my desk. “Dr. Hotness is her father?” Her voice ends in a high-pitched shrill.