by Portia Moore
“Hey, sometimes a man’s hand can be his best friend,” he says, flopping down next to me.
“I wasn’t jerking off. I was on the phone and lost track of time,” I say to shut him up. He gives me a disbelieving look.
“I was talking to Lauren,” I say, and a smug grin spreads across his face.
“How long were you guys on the phone?” he asks mischievously.
“Not that long,” I shrug. He gives me an incredulous look. “About two hours,” I finally admit.
“Get the fuck out!” he says, slapping me on the back.
“Dude, the only reason I stay on the phone with a girl that long is if I haven’t screwed her yet and it’ll better my chances, or she’s a hell of a dirty talker,” he laughs.
“Two hours isn’t that long.” I shrug.
“Okay, you’re right. You guys do have a lot to talk about. What did you find out?”
“Well we didn’t really talk about a lot of important stuff. I figured I’d save that for when she’s here, you know,” I say, pulling out my candy bar and opening it.
“Wait. So you were on the phone two hours just shooting the shit?” he says knowingly.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” I explain hesitantly, and he starts to shake his head, chuckling.
“What?” I say as he stands up.
“You like her?” he asks, but it’s more like a statement.
“Yeah, she’s cool and she has my kid.” I defend.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“It’s not like that. I want to be her friend and friends should have something to talk about.”
“You and I have been friends our whole lives and we’ve never talked on the phone like that,” he says as we start to walk back towards the house.
“Awww, what? Are you jealous”? I kid, and he laughs.
“How about you and Lisa? You guys talk that long?” he asks, folding his arms and the only answer I have is one that will strengthen his case.
“I didn’t plan on talking to her that long,” I admit as we start to pick up our pace.
“You better watch yourself, Scott.” He chuckles as he runs ahead of me. We end up running about two miles. Aidan wins by almost a half a block, I guess they did teach him something in the army.
“I’m starving,” he says as he catches his breath.
“Me too,” I reply as I walk the rest of the distance between us, inhaling as much air as I can.
“Let’s go get some burgers,” he says, grabbing a water bottle off my porch and downing it.
“I want breakfast.”
“You always want breakfast. It’s almost 11,” he says, whining like a four year old.
“We can grab some burgers, I can drop you off and get to my next workout plan for the night,” he says with a wink.
“I’m going to go fry some bacon,” I say, heading into the house.
“Screw it. Throw on some eggs for me,” he relents, following me.
“So what’s this one’s name?” I ask as I open the door.
“Rachel, and the body on th—” he stops mid-sentence as we see Jenna sitting at the kitchen table with her hands folded.
“Jenna,” I say happily.
“I figured you’d gone out on your run,” she replies quietly, a barely-there smile on her face.
“Hey Aidan,” she says, throwing a quick glance his way.
“What’s up, Jenna?” he responds dryly. The two have never really warmed up to each other. Jenna thinks he’s a chauvinistic pig. Aidan thinks she’s high-strung and boring so we never have hung out together much. I look at her and back at Aidan.
“Rain check on breakfast,” I say, and he nods quickly, heading out the door. I lock it behind him and see Jenna standing. I lean back against the door and we both stare at each other for a couple of seconds. I want to pull her towards me and hug her but her expression is stoic and I’m not sure how to approach her.
“When did you get back?” I ask her hesitantly. I search for the ring on her finger and I don’t see it there. My heart drops.
“This afternoon. You want to sit down?” she asks, gesturing to the seat across from her. I nod and pull out the chair across from her. She’s rubbing her hands together. I take a chance and pull hers into mine. She remains standing and lets out a breath.
“Where’s your ring?” I ask her quietly. Her eyes watch my hands as they embrace hers.
“I still have it. I just haven’t decided where to put it yet,” she replies and her hands slip out of mine. “So how are things?” she asks her blue eyes surveying me. When my mom was sick, they were the only things that made me feel better. They were piercing and stern. She didn’t allow me to wallow in self-pity. Her stare can be intimidating and that’s going to be really useful for her once she’s a lawyer. I’m used to it but this time it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I shift in my seat and try to choose my words carefully. I didn’t expect to see her tonight. I thought I’d have time to prepare. Now all my thoughts seem jumbled and crowding each other. I think if I speak right now only gibberish will come out. She’s waiting for me to answer. It’s been almost a minute and her stare is cutting into me. I feel like I’m on the witness stand.
“Did you hear me?” she asks, irritation evident in her tone.
“Well…” That’s all that comes out of my mouth and she bites her lip.
“How was your visit with…” She lets out a deep sigh and smiles tightly. “Your daughter.” She forces the words out like she’s chewing broken glass. She, turns away from me and smooths her hair with her hands as she laughs nervously. “I’ve been practicing how to say that without sounding like a complete bitch all day.”
I laugh, but not at her but because I can’t get the word puppy kicker out of my head.
“It’s not funny, Chris,” she snaps me back to the present, her eyes downcast.
“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” I say, approaching her. She doesn’t step back this time. I put my hands on her waist and then she moves away. I scratch my head.
“No. It’s important, right?” she says pointedly.
“Yeah.” I nod my head.
“I know, you’re ecstatic. I know how much you want kids.” She says the last part quietly.
“She’s the silver lining in all this.” I shrug and she doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“Does she look like you?” she asks, and sits down. I know talking about this isn’t easy for her but she’s good at hiding how she feels when she wants to. She wants me to think she’s okay with this, and really, if there’s any chance for us, she has to be okay with Caylen. So it gives me a little hope that she’s trying to be. I pull out my phone and scroll through the pictures Lauren’s sent me of Caylen and choose my favorite one. I cautiously hand the phone to Jenna. She takes a small breath before taking it. When she sees the picture, she closes her eyes after just a second. She rests her head in her palm as she stares at the picture again before she hands the phone back to me.
“She’s beautiful,” she says quietly. I take the phone back and wonder whether or not to say thank you.
“She look just like you,” she adds tightly, then sighs. “Can you get me some water?” she chokes out. I open the refrigerator, grab a bottle of water and hand it to her. I notice her hands shaking a little. She takes a drink and puts it down as she lets out another deep breath.
“I…I want you to meet her. When you’re ready,” I say hesitantly.
Her eyes widen. “Not ready,” she replies quickly, then lifts her head up.
“Don’t they live in Chicago?” she asks, and I nod. She looks a little relieved when I tell her that but I might as well get all this out of the way at once.
“She’s coming back this weekend,” I say and whatever relief she felt a few seconds ago has disappeared.
“Are you going to pick her up?” She says the words so quickly I have to remember how to answer her question.
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“No, Lauren’s going to bring her.”
Her eyes immediately narrow in on mine. “Why? Why can’t you just pick her up and bring her here?” she asks bluntly.
“Well, she’s only a year old and has never been away from Lauren that long. She’s still getting to know us,” I say as if it’s obvious. Her eyes widen.
“How long are they going to be here?” she asks sharply.
“Just for two or three weeks,” I say quickly. She runs her hands over her face.
“Have you asked her about the divorce?” she asks abruptly. I’m caught off guard. I guess I shouldn’t be. I know it’s something—well one of the first things—I probably should have talked to her about. Jenna’s definitely not going to like that it wasn’t. It’s just with so much going on…
“I’m going to,” I say firmly.
“That means you haven’t!” she says, her tone rising.
“It’s just that so much has been going on,” I try to explain. I can see her anger growing exponentially.
“What has been going on to keep you from making this a priority? Have you even found a new doctor yet?” she interrupts abruptly and I can only look away from her.
“I’ve been looking for one, but it turns out Dr. Lyce is one of the best,” I say, ignoring her searing glare.
“Have you made an appointment to see her?” she asks irately. She’s on a roll, and when she gets on a roll she doesn’t stop.
“No, I don’t know if I want to see her after what's happened,”
“Then what the hell are you doing?” she yells at me.
“I’m trying to figure everything out!” I snap back.
“What is there to figure out? If you want a divorce, you ask her for it. If you want a new doctor, you find one.” Her fists are clenched and she’s shaking. “How fucking dare you ask me where my ring is when you haven’t even asked your ‘wife’ for a divorce?” she says, thumping me in the chest with her finger punctuating each word. Her eyes are wide and full of angry tears. I realize how right she is.
“Is everything okay?” my mom appears in the kitchen, standing in her robe. Jenna’s eyes narrow in on me before turning towards my mom.
“I’m sorry I was so loud, Mrs. Scott,” she apologizes quietly.
“It’s okay Jenna, do you guys need anything?” she asks, glancing at me. I smile tightly.
“No. Chris was just going to walk me to my car now,” she says, heading for the door. “Have a good night Mrs. Scott,” she says as she walks out.. I let out a sigh. My mom looks at me sympathetically before I follow Jenna out. She’s already at her car, arms folded across her chest. She’s not in the car yet, so that means she’s not done with me.
I walk over to her and stand an arm’s length away from of her.
“You’re right. I’m just trying to make this right for everyone.” It’s dark out so I can’t really see her facial expression but if I had to guess, I’d say she’s rolling her eyes.
“You like things to be easy, Chris. You try to make everything easy for everyone. This just isn’t going to be an easy situation,” she says, closing the space between us. I take her in my arms and she rests her head on my chest.
“I’m going to ask her. I just don’t want to spring it on her. She knows that it’s going to happen. I just want to get to a good place with Caylen and her, then we can go from there.”
“It’s not springing it on her!” She pulls back and lets out a deep, frustrated groan. “You said that she was letting the past go. She knows you’re engaged to me and that we can't get married while you’re still married to her. So she’s either letting you go or she’s hoping for something different. You can’t let her keep holding on. That’s going to make everything worse!” she says frantically. “You can’t let this guy Cal control your life. Start making your own decisions.” She’s adamant and she’s right. As long as I’m married to Lauren he—Cal—still has a hold on me. His actions still supersede mine.
I’ll be her friend and she’ll see that we can be friends and have a relationship for Caylen's sake.
“I’ll tell her before she goes back to Chicago,” I say, mostly to myself, ignoring the tightening in my chest and the growing tension in my head.
“And I think I should meet Caylen while they’re here,” she says, looking up at me with a small hopeful smile. I feel good about this and ignore the earlier tension I was feeling.
Chapter 34
Lauren
Tell me what you want….
Everything…
I hate this feeling. The nervousness, the anxiousness that starts in my stomach and spreads everywhere. I want it to go away. I want to feel fine about all this, but something’s tugging at my thoughts, suggesting that I’m about to fall down the rabbit hole.
I had another dream about Cal last night. It was the first night we had ever slept together. Everything happened as it did that night except when he asked me what I wanted and I told him everything, he told me I couldn’t have it.
I couldn’t have everything and I shouldn't get my hopes up.
I woke up after that, before it even got to the good part. I haven’t had any of the good part in…I don’t even want to think about how long that’s been. What I have been thinking about is the last time I talked to Chris. How we talked for almost two hours and it flew by like minutes. It was the first time where the butterflies settled in my stomach, where there was no nervousness or anxiousness. He talked to me like a friend. I don’t think Cal and I ever talked like friends.
Just friends.
I’ve been trying to not think of Cal since this happened. I know focusing on him is the wrong thing to do but I can’t help it. Although I miss him, I am so angry at him for letting this happen, for never just telling me the truth.
Then again, this situation is pretty unbelievable. If he had revealed his condition when we first met, I probably would have headed for the hills. But once I fell in love with him, it wouldn’t have mattered. It would have been so much easier if he had just been honest with me. I wouldn’t have had those long sleepless nights worrying about him, and where he was. I would have known. Then again, Chris didn’t even know what was going on. I wonder how that would have worked out. It’s no use thinking about it now. It hurts too much. You would think it’d be harder for me to not think about him when I’m around Chris, but it isn’t. He and Cal are so different that it’s easier to believe this story when I can see the differences. It’s when I’m not around Chris that I start analyzing everything. I think about what it means when he’s not around; will he ever come back; if it was him who winked at me and called me gorgeous; did it even happened at all.
I’ve started to research his condition and see how many people live this every single day. Some have as many as ten or twenty alters. The word alter makes me cringe. To condense a person into an ‘alter,’ their life, their hopes, and their loves—I guess that’s because I fell in love with the 'alter'. Chris hasn’t mentioned seeing anyone about his condition. He did say he didn’t trust his prior doctor…not that I blame him. I want to ask when he’ll be getting some help, but I guess since Cal hasn’t attempted to resurface, it’s not a priority for him at the moment. I don’t even know if he thinks it should be my concern. It’s when I start to think of things like this that the anxiety in the pit of my stomach starts and won’t go away.
I try to convince myself that these three weeks are going to go smoothly, that Caylen and the Scott’s will spend lots of time together, that Chris and I will have a better understanding of one another and everything will be sunshine and roses, but for some reason, as I approach their door, I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.
A lot of questions are going to have to be answered these next three weeks. That may not be easy. We’re going to have to find solutions that aren’t simple to come up with, but for this to work, we’re going to have to face them.
It’s one o’clock in the afternoon and Chris actually got called in to work today
. He asked me if I wanted him to not go but I didn’t think it was necessary. He should be home soon anyway. What I didn’t expect was for Mrs. Scott to ask for me to come over as soon as I arrived. I’m halfway up the steps before she opens the door, grinning widely.
“Hi, Princess!” She rushes over to me and takes Caylen out of my arms. “I’m so glad you guys made it safely. How was your drive?” she asks, giving me a quick glance and a warm smile. She never takes her attention away from Caylen for very long. If it were anyone else I’d take offense, but with Mrs. Scott I know she means well.
“It was good. She slept most of the way,” I say, following her into the house.
“She’s such a good little girl,” she coos to her as we head into the kitchen. The smell of chocolate chip cookies greets us.
“I baked these just for you,” she says to Caylen. I hope I can at least have one.
“You don’t mind do you, Lauren?” she asks hesitantly.
“Only if I can have one,” I joke, and she laughs.
“Please, especially before Chris gets home. He can eat the whole batch by himself,” she says as she gives Caylen half of a cookie and hands me the plate. Like everything else she’s cooked, they’re delicious.
“I’m so glad you guys are here and I have a surprise to show you.” She picks Caylen up off the counter and gestures for me to follow her. She leads me to a room with a closed door.
“I hope you like it,” she says before opening it. When she does, she reveals a beautifully decorated little girl’s room. There’s a full-sized bed with a beautiful pink and white down comforter, matching curtains and pink flower decals on the white walls. There’s a white dresser beside a bookshelf stocked with children’s books, and a rocking chair with a teddy bear as big as I am. She puts Caylen down and she immediately makes her way over to the bear. I’m literally speechless. I can’t believe she did all this in two weeks.
“You like it?” she asks with a nervous smile. I feel tears in my eyes and blink them away quickly.
“I can’t believe you did all this.” I say as I make my way around it. It’s the perfect little girl’s room. Caylen has a beautiful room back home but the attention to detail Mrs. Scott put into this for a little girl she’s only met once—my little girl—lets me know, without a doubt, she’s been accepted into their hearts.
