by Portia Moore
“Read the card,” he says with a smile, pointing at the tiny card lying between both shoes.
I open it and read the words out loud. “‘These shoes look like they’re straight out of The Wizard of Oz, but since sometimes I’m like the tornado that blew you into Oz, I guess you can wear Dorothy’s red slippers. And if I’m gone and seem lost, maybe you can do a little click and I’ll find my way home.’”
I look at him, and he looks down, a little embarrassed. “It’s corny, isn’t it?” he asks with a shy smile.
I nod and climb onto his lap. “As corny as you being my Prince Charming.” I cup his face and kiss him softly on the lips.
He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me on his lap. “Are you going to wear them for me?” he says, a lustful glint in his eye.
“I have the perfect white dress for them,” I say, running my hands through his hair.
“No dress. Just them.” He bites his lip with a playful smile, but I’ve known him long enough to know how serious he is.
“Later. I have to run and pick up your gift,” I say, hopping off his lap. I run to the console table and grab my purse.
“No, my gift can be you,” he says pleadingly, and I laugh at him.
“It will be. Tonight,” I promise again, reaching the door.
His expression looks like a sad puppy’s.
“Don’t look at me like that.” I giggle, and he comes toward me. “No. Five feet,” I say threateningly, my hand on the doorknob as I laugh. I know if he gets too close, I’ll be a goner.
“I hope you’ve gotten a lot of sleep since I’ve been gone. Because you’re going to be up all night,” he says, giving me a faux warning, and my body perks up at the thought.
“Plenty,” I say with a wink before slipping out the door.
As I walk back into the house, the television is on downstairs, but Cal is nowhere in sight. I grab the remote and turn it off. I start to call Cal’s name, but I hear him upstairs.
I make my way up and hear Cal yelling as though he’s in an argument. The intensity of his voice makes me pause, not knowing if I should go back downstairs and give him his privacy or if I should rush into the room. But I don’t hear anyone except for Cal. I make my way up the stairs and pause before I’m right next to the door.
“I’m fucking furious! I can’t stop taking it. What the hell am I going to do? You told me you were sure before I did this. This changes everything! I’m not going to stop—I might as well be, Dex! How the fuck am I supposed to explain this? I won’t. I can’t take her through that shit. Well, figure it out fast.”
My heart is pounding, and my feet feel frozen on the floor. The only thing that removes them is a thud against the wall. I try to figure out what to do. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve never heard Cal that angry when talking to Dexter. I don’t know why, but I turn around and go back down the stairs, and when he opens the bedroom door, I pretend I’m just making my way up.
Cal comes out, anger radiating from his face. He looks down at me, and his expression changes to something else. He looks almost remorseful.
“Cal, what’s wrong? You look upset,” I say, my voice giving away my nerves.
“Um.” He exhales and runs his hands over his face, and I see that his hand is red and scratched.
I rush up the stairs and hold his wrist. “Cal, what did you do!” I ask frantically, leading him into the guest bathroom.
“Don’t be mad, but I punched a hole in our wall,” he says casually as I run water over his hand.
My head snaps toward him. “Why did you do that!” I grab our first aid kit and pull out the antibiotic wipes.
“Dex really pissed me off,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bathtub while I clean his hand.
I nod and take a deep breath. “I kind of heard you talking to him.” I look up at him guiltily.
His eyes widen just for a moment before his calm demeanor returns. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
“Did it have something to do with me?” I ask, sitting on his lap.
“I’m—I’m going to be gone a little more than I thought I was,” he says, his gaze on the floor.
I take a deep breath and smile. “That’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but it’s nothing to go punching holes in the wall over.” I run my hands through his hair. If we ever have kids one day, I hope they have his hair. It’s thick, shiny, and luscious, like hair from a shampoo commercial. “I’m a big girl,” I add, trying to comfort him, but really my heart has dropped into my stomach.
A shadow of a smile passes over his face but only briefly. “I’m not feeling too good, babe. Would it be really fucked up if we didn’t go out tonight?” he says, searching my expression.
I don’t let a hint of my disappointment show. “No, babe. If you’re not feeling well, it’s nothing we can’t do another day,” I lie with a smile.
“Are you sure? Because we can if you still want to do something. I can just lie down for a few minutes,” he says, cupping my chin and looking into my eyes as if he’s searching for my true feelings.
But I won’t let him see them. I know whatever happened during that conversation is going to have his mind a thousand miles away anyway.
“No, get some rest. It’s your first day back home, and you’re probably jet-lagged. It’s fine,” I assure him before kissing him softly.
“I’m going to make it up to you,” he says as I get off his lap and smile. “And you don’t have to sit here with me. You should call your girls and go out.” He walks into the bedroom and lies across the bed.
“I’m not going to spend our anniversary out with them. As long as I’m with you, that’s what’s important,” I say, crawling next to him.
He wraps one of his arms around me and holds me close to him. “You know I love you, right?” I’d expect him to sound playful, like his normal self, but his tone is sullen.
“Of course I do,” I say, looking back at him curiously.
“No, seriously.” He turns my body around toward him, so I’m facing him completely. We’re eye to eye. “No matter what. Whatever happens—if anything were to happen—nothing, under any circumstances”—he takes my hand and places it on his chest and holds it there—“will ever take you from here.”
I try to search for something to say.
His words are heavy in the air, and he continues. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it, always know how much I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and even if I screw it up…”
I cup his face. “Cal, you’re scaring me. Is everything okay?” I sit up and lean on my elbow.
The seriousness on his face vanishes and is replaced by a playful grin. “Yeah, just trying to get laid.” He pulls me down next to him again.
I smile, but there’s still uneasiness crawling all over my body, and I can’t ignore it. “You can tell me anything. Nothing would change the way I feel about you. You’ll always be my Cal,” I say honestly from the pit of my soul, ignoring his playful glare.
“I know. That’s why I love you,” he says, his boyish grin calming my earlier tremors.
As he kisses me, my nerves slowly disappear. I kiss him back and rest my head on his chest. And even though he said his speech was an attempt to get sex, he doesn’t touch me in a way that leads me to believe it. He holds me as if he’s just savoring us in this moment, and I lie in his arms and savor it too until we both fall asleep.
May 9th, 2013
When the knock at the door comes, I try to calm my nerves. I’ve already cleared Steven with security as one of my guests, so he doesn’t have to buzz in to get to my floor.
“Hey.” His tone is upbeat and his expression warm—until his eyes drift down to my outfit and he sees that I’m in an oversized red T-shirt and jeans. Not exactly lunch date attire.
“Hi,” I say, trying to downplay my apprehension.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks skeptically.
“I need to talk to you,” I tell
him, inviting him to come in.
“Okay.” He hesitates but follows me in.
I lock the door and take a deep breath. “Can you sit down for a little bit?” I gesture to the sofa, and he nods, taking a seat. I sit on a chair across from him instead of beside him.
“Is something wrong?” he asks, obviously feeling the awkwardness of the moment.
“Cal was here last night,” I tell him hastily.
His expression goes from concerned to stunned. His eyes widen and his mouth falls agape. “Oh. Wow. He came back? Is he here?” he says, looking around.
“No, you don’t understand.” I chuckle. “He’s not back. He’s… I heard him yesterday in Caylen’s room.” I’m waiting for some sort of reaction, but his expression doesn’t change. “I heard him talking to her, and when I heard him, I sort of freaked out.” I stand and pace the room.
“I don’t understand,” he says, looking as confused as I sound.
“Well, I didn’t really see him, but I know he was here. He locked me in my room.”
He wipes his hand across his face. When I say it out loud, I realize how crazy this sounds.
“Are you sure he was here?” he asks, sighing.
“I’d bet my life on it.”
He nods. “So I guess that means lunch is off.” He laughs dryly.
“I thought I was ready to move on. I really did, but I’m not… I-I’m so sorry.” I keep my eyes on the floor, feeling too guilty to look at him.
He approaches me and places his hands on my shoulders. I look at him but avoid his eyes. I don’t know what to say.
“All this time I’ve been spending with you made me realize how much I’ve missed you. I started to fall for you again,” he confesses, making my pit of embarrassment and guilt deeper. “Last night when you asked me out, I thought it was a sign. I didn’t want to tell you how I’ve been feeling about you. I didn’t want you to think my spending time with you and Caylen was because of some hidden agenda, because it wasn’t, and it still isn’t. But my feelings have changed, and I can’t just stand by anymore.” He looks straight into my eyes. “I know how much he put you through—even when you’re smiling, there’s sadness in your eyes. Now you think you might have heard his voice, and you’re the happiest I’ve seen you in a year. I can’t compete with that.”
I try to blink my tears away. What’s wrong with me? I have this great guy standing in front of me, and all I can think about is Cal.
“Don’t cry,” he says, pulling me into a hug.
“You don’t hate me?” I whimper against his chest.
“No. I’ll get over it. I promise,” he says with a light chuckle.
I can’t help but smile as well.
“I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy for Caylen.” He kisses me on the forehead.
“You’re going to make someone really happy one day.” I smile, patting his arm as we part.
“Aw, shucks,” he jokes. “Well, I better get going then. I’m starving,” he says, patting his stomach. “You know, we can still go out if you want…”
“I kind of ate before you got here,” I admit, a little embarrassed. “I can fix you something though. Salad or cereal?” I really need to learn how to cook.
He laughs, heading to the door. “No, I’m probably just going to go grab a burger or something.”
I follow him. “Thanks for being so—”
He puts up his hands. “We don’t want this to get awkward or all emotional.” He laughs, and I nod. “I’ll see you later.” He pats me on the arm.
I accompany him to the door and watch him walk down the hall to the elevator. I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I have this wonderful man who wants me, despite my issues, who is nice, funny, and handsome, and I’m throwing it away for—what? I’m not even sure yet. Still, Steven deserves someone who will love him with her whole heart, not a woman who already gave her heart away. I wave as he enters the elevator and the doors slide shut on my innocent, budding romance.
The door buzzer sounds, and I look at the camera. Hillary is standing downstairs. Hmm. She didn’t say anything about coming over today. I buzz her in and glance at the clock. I still have an hour before Raven and Caylen will be home from the zoo. I get my blanket off the couch and fold it just in time for Hillary to knock on the door. I answer it, and she swoops in, obviously on a mission.
She whirls around suddenly. “You ditched Steven?”
“What?”
“God, Lauren, what’s wrong with you?” she exclaims. “Don’t you know he has had a thing for you for months now? Then when you finally wake up and see it, you suddenly ditch him because you think you heard Cal?”
“Wait a minute. You’ve known how Steven’s felt all this time, and you haven’t told me?”
“I didn’t know how you felt, and I didn’t want to ruin things between you guys if you didn’t feel the same way,” she states simply. “And what is this thing about you think you heard Cal? What the hell is with that?” I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off. “Lauren, he’s been gone for a while now. Don’t you think it’s time to get over him? I thought you were over him, for God’s sake!”
“Wait a minute, Hillary, you need to calm down. You don’t know anything about what’s been going on with me, so before you come in here and start chastising anyone, you need to know what’s going on.” This is why I don’t talk to her. This is exactly why I go to Angela instead.
“Okay, fine. Then tell me what’s going on,” she demands, tapping her foot impatiently.
“I woke up to Caylen crying on the baby monitor. When I tried to go to her, I realized my door was locked, then I heard Cal talking to her. I couldn’t go to her; I couldn’t get out. By the time Raven got back from the drug store and let me out of my room, he was gone.”
“And this is the reason you’re throwing away your chance with Steven? You didn’t even see him, Lauren,” she says condescendingly.
Her tone is pissing me off. “I don’t think I heard anything. I know I did. I have proof,” I tell her, walking over to the counter. I hand her Caylen’s bracelet.
“D.L.G. What the hell does that mean?” she asks, looking up from the bracelet as if it’s meaningless.
“It stands for Daddy’s Little Girl. When he was talking to her, I heard him say he had something for her. It was this!”
She sighs, seeming unfazed by it, and hands it back to me.
“Don’t you get it?” I continue. “I heard Cal talking to her, then suddenly she’s wearing this bracelet from out of nowhere with those initials. You tell me how that’s possible.”
“Okay, so what? Let’s suspend all disbelief and say it was him. If he really was here, what happens now? Are you going to sit around waiting for him to pop up again?”
I open my mouth to say something, but I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say.
“If he does come back, then what? You’re going to take him back with open arms, wipe the slate clean, forgetting the fact that he was MIA for two years, doing God knows what—or who. That’s okay with you? It’s fucking fantastic that he left you, pregnant, to raise Caylen alone, and he gets the thumbs-up to drop in whenever he feels like it?” she asks me mockingly.
Hearing her speak about Cal that way sparks something in me. “You don’t understand. When I heard him talking to her, it was as if something was keeping him from us. That it wasn’t his choice.”
I’m about to make another comment in Cal’s defense, but the doorbell rings again, and I can see on the monitor that it’s Angela. I get up and hit the buzzer for her to be let in.
“Okay, let’s just imagine, ridiculous as it is, something important caused him to abandon his family and now he’s free to come back. What about all the problems you were having before he left? Is everything just going to start over? You’re going to pretend like it never happened? Don’t tell me you’ve grown that desperate,” Hillary says, staring me in the eye.
I look away, feeling my ch
eeks burn. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I’ve been ignoring everything I shouldn’t. I run my hands through my hair and cover my face in frustration.
“Look, L, I’m your friend, even if we haven’t been as close as we used to be. I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want to see you throw away something that could be genuine for a shot in the dark at a world full of heartache again,” she continues as I bite my lip to keep from really blowing up at her.
Angela’s knocking at the door breaks up Hillary’s momentum. I answer the door, and she breezes into the penthouse.
“Where’s the birthday girl?” she sings happily with a gift bag in hand. Her smile fades when she sees the look on my face. “What’s going on?” She looks from Hillary to me.
“I heard Cal last night,” I tell her.
“She thinks she heard Cal last night,” Hillary corrects.
“I know I heard him. I showed you the bracelet!” I shout at her.
“Wait. What!” Angela looks confused and shocked by the conversation and how Hillary and I are at one another’s throats.
I show her the bracelet and brief her on what happened earlier with Cal.
“I think I need to sit down.” She exhales, taking a seat next to Hillary.
Angela is looking at me sympathetically, and Hillary is looking at me in disbelief.
“You believe me, don’t you, Angie?” I ask her hopefully, focusing on the more optimistic side of the couch. I need someone to just at least admit there’s a possibility that what I’m saying may be true.
“Lauren, I don’t know what to say. I really don’t.” She sighs quietly.
“She wants to say the same thing I did,” Hillary snarls.
“Hillary, shut up,” Angela snaps at her.
“No, I’m not shutting up! Tell her this is crazy!” Hillary snaps back. She grabs her head and closes her eyes. “This is driving me crazy! Don’t get me wrong, Lauren. I used to like Cal. I thought I was wrong about him, but he turned out to be exactly how I expected him to be.” She stands. “Bottom line is if he loved you, he’d have his ass here. He left you when you needed him most, and not just for a week. It’s been almost two years. And you’re sitting here crying and pining for him as if he’s left for war!”
