As soon as I enter the florist side of my business, Jenna barely pops her head up from under the counter. I give her my best ‘what the hell look’, causing her to shake her head.
“I’m restocking,” she says disappearing under the counter.
“I did that last night.” I walk around and find the wrapping paper scattered all over the floor.
Jenna sits back on her knees and sighs. “I made the mistake of letting Eden loose for a few minutes and apparently she didn’t like the way we had things.”
“At least she’s cute,” I say to Jenna’s back. Eden is adorable and has everyone wrapped around her little finger, but she’s a complete terror when she’s on a mission and nothing seems to be able to change her mind.
“Let me help you.” I bend down and start gathering the sheets of paper we use to wrap the flowers in. “How are you doing?” I ask her, curious if I’m losing touch with reality because while I miss Liam, the pain I was feeling earlier – the heartache – has subsided and that scares me. This is also the first time Jimmy’s been gone since the shooting.
Jenna shrugs and slides her stack of paper back into the cubbyhole. It doesn’t escape my notice that she’s wiping away tears. I don’t know if they’re from Jimmy being gone, or because of Eden causing havoc. “It gets easier, right?” When she looks at me, her eyes are red and puffy. I drop my stack, adding to Eden’s mess, and pull her into my arms.
“I want to tell you yes, that it does get better, but I would be lying. I think we just get used to it.” I pull back and wipe away her tears. “It’s different for each of us. I was asking myself the same thing earlier. I’m not in agony over him being gone; does that mean I love him less?”
She shakes her head. “I’m so worried though. What if he’s not ready to be all crazy up on stage?”
I return to my stack and hand it to her, waiting for her to slide the papers back in. “What does Xander say?”
Jenna shrugs again. “Jimmy says everything is fine and Xander agrees, but I can’t help feeling they’re not being honest with me. I’ve seen him get winded chasing Eden around the house! He tells me it’s nothing and that he’s out of shape, but how can that be if he’s working out all the time?”
“I think being on stage and chasing a toddler around are two different things. When he’s on stage, the exhilaration will keep him going. Besides, you know Liam and Harrison aren’t going to let anything happen to him.”
“I know,” she sighs, as she picks up the last stack of paper. “I think I’m looking for excuses for him to come home. I was thinking of taking a couple of days off and going out there.”
Her thought gives me the same idea but with Noah’s schedule, I can’t. He needs at least one parent at his games. If he weren’t playing baseball right now, we’d both be in California with Liam.
“I think you should. I think Jimmy will like that, and maybe it’ll put your mind at ease.”
“You think?”
“I do, and you guys can find time to take Eden to Disneyland. I bet she’d love that.”
Jenna wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. She knows I’d do anything for her and if that means she needs time off, she can have it. Truthfully, she does me a favor by working here.
We’re still sitting on the floor when a young man steps up to the counter. We were both so lost in our conversation that we didn’t hear the chime on the door.
“Sorry,” I say as I scramble to my feet. “We didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s cool,” he says. “I’d like a dozen red roses for my girlfriend.”
Jenna starts to work on his arrangement while I take all of his information and process his order.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, as he signs his credit card receipt.
“No reason. I was walking by and saw the flowers in the window. I love her and think she should know that I’m thinking about her even as I’m walking down the street.”
Jenna and I both swoon. “She’s lucky to have you. Would you like us to deliver them?” I ask.
“Do chicks like that?”
Jenna giggles. “Is she at work?”
“Yes, she works over at the bank.”
“Then yes,” Jenna says, as she walks around the counter to pick out a vase. “Her co-workers will all dote on her and tell her how lucky she is. They’ll be jealous. Believe me, it’s a good thing.”
“All right, then. How much is delivery?”
“It’s on the house,” I say, before Jenna can tell him the price. This young man is clearly smitten with his girl, and he reminds me of Liam. It’s the least I can do for him.
“Thank you.” He stays to inspect the flowers and chats with us for a few more minutes. When they’re ready, Jenna tells me she’s going to walk them over to the bank and asks if I don’t mind manning the shop. I wave her off. She should know that I don’t mind staying.
The way the café was built, I can watch the flower shop while standing at the register of the café. It was done this way because I never thought I’d need staff for both sides. The café part is booming, especially during meals. In between the peak times, we have patrons who come in who read, gossip, and even write their novels. I like to think of the café as a happy place.
Dana and David are working tonight, training Pete and Tracy, who are both older and looking to supplement their income. My plan is to promote Dana at the end of the month once she tells me if she’s staying on through the summer or not.
“Hey, Josie,” Dana walks by with a tub full of dishes. When I started hiring, Mr. Powell suggested I have everyone call me Mrs. Westbury, just as we still call him Mr. Powell. He said it’s a respect thing, and while I don’t disagree, I find it awkward and impersonal.
“How was the lunch rush?” She passes the bucket off to David, who nods in my direction before disappearing out back.
“Every table was full, and Tracy and Pete really knew how to handle the pressure. David said Pete is a whiz in the kitchen.” Our kitchen isn’t anything extraordinary since we serve mostly soups, salads and sandwiches, but it’s good to know that Pete is capable of keeping up.
“That’s good,” I say, glancing back into the shop to make sure I didn’t miss another chime.
“So, how are you taking everything?”
“With Liam being gone?” I ask with a shrug. “It’s not the first time he’s been gone since we’ve been back together. They toured last year and are hoping to tour this summer, as well. Although, during the summer we can go…” I trail off because Dana is looking at me like I have two heads. Her eyes are squinted as if she’s in deep thought or utterly confused.
“What?” I help her along by asking instead of leaving her sitting there with a strained look on her face, trying to decide how to phrase her next question.
“I just thought… with the… never mind,” she says. She tries to walk away, but I reach out and grab her.
“With the what? Dana, what are you talking about?”
“The photos,” she says quietly, almost... shamefully.
“What photos?” My voice is terse. The tension is already rising.
Dana backs away with her hands up. “I really like my job here, so I’m just going to wait on those customers.”
I stop her again as she tries to pass. “You won’t get fired, nor will I be upset with you. Please tell me what you’re talking about.” I let go of her arm and she digs through her apron, pulling out her phone. After a few seconds of swiping and typing she turns her screen toward me.
I take a step back and take her phone from her. My husband and another woman are kissing. The image is grainy, but there’s no mistaking where his mouth is. I push the screen up and find more of them, together in a restaurant and outside his hotel.
“Who is this?”
“Layla Richards,” she says as my blood runs cold. “According to this article, they used to be…”
“I know who she is,” I say abruptly, as my stomach turns and my heart star
ts racing. “I need to go. Can you watch the shop until Jenna gets back? She just ran to the bank.”
I don’t wait for her answer as I run out the door. My car is parked down the street, in front of Xander’s gym, and I pray that he isn’t outside when I get there. I fight to hold back the tears as I make my way to my car.
Once inside, I bite the inside of my cheek until I’m far enough away that I can pull over. The scream is nothing like I’ve ever felt before, worse this time than when he left me. I grip the steering wheel, yanking it back and forth as I cry out in anger, frustration and pain. My throat is raw and burning, and the sounds coming out of me are animalistic. I see his face and his eyes as he looks at that woman and I want to strangle him. I want to kill him for doing this to me, for doing this to Noah and our unborn child.
There has to be an explanation. That is what I’m telling myself as I drive home. I can’t fathom the thought of Noah having to go through a divorce. I’ve been down this path with Liam before; I was able to move on and I can do it again, but I’m not sure about Noah.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” I yell at the top of my lungs. Not at Liam, but at myself for assuming the worst. He’s always said you can’t trust the media, but was he just saying that so I wouldn’t look or is it true? Or is this true... that he’s with another woman? This is exactly why I didn’t want him to go back to Los Angeles. I can’t handle this part - the Liam Page –part – of his life.
When I pull into the driveway, I’m caught off guard by the sight of Bianca throwing a football around with Noah. She’s still dressed as she was earlier and somehow makes tossing a ball look effortless in heels. I want to talk to her more, but now is not the right time. I pull down my visor and check my eyes. They’re bloodshot and my eyelids are puffy.
Great!
I take a deep breath and open the door. I can’t sit in here and avoid her, especially after everything we shared today.
“Hey Mom,” Noah says after I shut my door. I wave and pretend to look for something in my purse. The longer I stall, the better off I’ll be. But I can’t stand by the car forever and finally take the required steps to get to my front door.
When I look up, Bianca is watching me. She looks so much like Liam, with her dark hair and matching eyes. It makes me wonder if she got her looks from her mom or dad.
“Hello, Josie.”
“Hi, Bianca. I hope Noah isn’t being too hard on you.”
“Oh no, he’s just fine. He’s teaching me how to throw a spiral.”
“She’s not very good yet,” he chimes in. Instead of saying something snobbish, she smiles. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile. Her whole face lights up, making her eyes sparkle.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” I blurt out the question before I know what I’m saying. Either Noah or Bianca let out a little gasp, I can’t be sure whom, but they’re obviously just as shocked as I am that I asked.
“I’d love to, Josie. Thank you.”
“Come on, Grandma, you can sit next to me.”
This is the first time I’ve heard Noah call her grandma, but she must answer to it. He has his arm out, bent at the elbow, as he escorts her into the house.
I follow them into the house and the aroma of lasagna wafts through the air, causing my stomach to turn. I press my hand against my stomach and hold my breath until the queasiness subsides. Linda is an excellent cook and insists on cooking for us, even though she doesn’t need to. For half a minute I thought she’d head back to LA with Liam, but she stayed. I’m glad. It’s nice to have someone in the house when it’s just me.
“Are you okay, Josie?” Bianca asks.
I nod. “I’m fine,” I tell her, offering no valid excuse as to why my stomach is flipping upside down right now.
“Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” We sit down with Bianca sitting by Noah as he rattles off who knows what. She intently listens and asks questions at the appropriate time. When Linda comes out, I tell her that I’m not very hungry and she offers to make me soup instead, clearly not taking “no” for an answer.
We eat with sporadic conversation. It’s mostly Noah talking but I chime in every now and again. When his plate is clear, he asks to be excused, promising he’ll be right back. There’s an awkward silence filling the room and I know I’m the one who needs to break it.
“This really means a lot to Noah – that you’re here and that you come see him.”
Bianca smiles. She sits up straight and puts her hands in her lap, ever so proper. “He’s very funny and so smart. I’ve been enjoying my time with him.”
“Does Sterling know you’re here?” My tone is sharp and to the point. The last thing I want is that man beating down my door looking for his wife.
Her eyes fall to her lap and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “He does and doesn’t approve. But I need to do this for myself. For far too long I’ve done things his way, and I’ve missed out on so many years with my grandson, not to mention my own son. I’d like to go to Noah’s baseball game, if you think that’d be okay?”
I nod, letting her know that it’s fine. “He’d like that,” I say as I try to keep my voice from breaking.
“Do you love him?”
“Who?” I ask.
“Liam.”
My head moves up and down, telling her yes. “Of course I do. Why would you ask me something like that?” Now my voice cracks and tears threaten to fall. I love him but, in this moment, I’m not sure that I trust him.
“Because when you arrived home you were crying. I know what it’s like to be alone and to miss someone. Those weren’t the tears you were shedding. Your tears were angry.”
“How could you tell?”
“I’ve cried many tears, and the ones that made me look the worst were the angry ones.”
I’m taken aback by what she’s saying, and hate that she’s observant enough to know the difference in my tears. Right now, I’d like to ask her to leave, but Noah’s coming down the stairs and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He needs Bianca in his life and as much as part of me wants to stop their relationship, I won’t do that to him.
I leave them at the table and head into the kitchen with our plates. From a distance I can hear my phone ringing. I hope it’s not Liam because I’m not ready to talk to him. I rush to my phone, not recognizing the number.
Stupidly, I answer. “Hello?”
“Josie Westbury?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Roger Jones, Editor at Gossip. Can you confirm that Liam Page has filed for divorce?”
I set my phone down and rush into the bathroom, expelling the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Here I am again because of Liam. I try to hold it together because the last thing I want is for Bianca to ask questions.
When I sit back on my heels, she’s handing me a towel. I can’t keep the tears away any longer, nor can I keep up this stupid façade that I trust my husband.
“I’m sorry; you don’t need to see this.” I get up and head to the sink, rinsing my mouth and splashing water on my face. From behind me, the toilet flushes, causing another wave of tears. I don’t trust Bianca, and yet I’m vulnerable.
She sets my phone down on the counter and steps through the doorway. “One thing I learned from growing up in the world you’re living in is that you can’t trust everything you hear or see. Call him, Josie.” The door shuts, locking me in this small space with my demons.
“Thank you for being here today,” says the short brunette who is standing at the podium next to our table. Besides the band and Layla, four other guys are sitting at the table with us. I don’t have a clue as to who they are, but they must be important to Trixie since they’re here and willing to help her.
“If you didn’t sign in with your seat number, please let me know.” She holds up a clipboard, but there are no takers. “My name is Wendy and I’ll be your moderator today. To keep things orderly, please raise your hand and I’ll call out your seat numb
er.”
Burke appears with glasses and pitchers of water. “What about the vodka?” I ask, but get no reply. I lean into Layla and ask her if she’s ready for this. When I hear shutters clicking, I know I’ve made a grave mistake. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, only to feel her hand on my knee. Thank God for tablecloths or I’d be more screwed than I already am.
“Before we start, I’d like to introduce you to the panel. First we have Adam, Lem, Chett and Dex from Wild Nobility.” Wendy, helpfully, sheds light as to who the other four musicians are before introducing Layla and then us to the waiting crowd. “Okay, now that the formalities are out of the way, let’s begin,” Wendy says to the delight of the audience. Hands fly up into the air and I use this opportunity to fill my water glass and drink it down before I have to answer any questions.
“Number twenty-seven,” Wendy calls out.
“How do you find time to balance your personal and professional life?”
I look at Layla who is answering first. She smiles and leans into the microphone. “Being a songwriter, it’s easy for me to be a mom first. I write when the lyrics are in my head, but I don’t have to be in a certain location to do that. I always have my phone with me and can easily make notes on that if inspiration strikes.”
I take a deep breath and pull the microphone to me. “We work nine to five like everyone else, but with the flexibility of taking time off when needed for our kids.”
“We’re not just a band, but a family. Our family comes first,” Harrison adds.
“We’re far too busy to have personal lives,” Dex, one of the guys on the end answers. Someone should tell them that being in love and having kids will trump being in a band any day.
“Number four.”
My Kind of Forever Page 14
