The Light to My Darkness - Chapter 2
Friday
"I'm home!" I called as I locked the door behind me. I was greeted by silence. "James? Ellen?" No one responded. It was rare to be home alone. I couldn't even remember the last time our apartment had been so quiet. I walked into the kitchen and scanned the counter.
"I'm sorry, little man," I said to my belly as I smoothed the fabric of my dress over my stomach. "There aren't any bananas left. How about an apple?" I shook my head as I eyed the fruit basket. "Yeah, that doesn't sound as good to me either."
I grabbed a glass of water instead and wandered into the living room.
I sat down on the couch and rested my head back, staring up at the ceiling.
It felt so good to sit down. Everything ached today.
Silence probably comforted some people, but it made me feel unsettled.
It was like this big empty void. Bed rest would be okay if there were people around all the time.
But I didn't want to just sit around by myself. That sounded more like torture.
I sighed and stood back up. Ow. I placed my hand on my stomach.
"Really, you need to stop doing that. I already told you there aren't any bananas.
" Another kick landed beneath my ribs. "I'll find something else.
Please just stop kicking me." I walked back into the kitchen.
I was about to open up the fridge when I spotted the mail on the counter.
It was foolish, but I let myself get excited when I saw a letter addressed to my pen name, Ivy Smoak. I tore open the top, unfolded the piece of paper, and held my breath as I read the words.
Dear Ms. Smoak,
Thank you for your query. We greatly appreciate your submission and have given it our careful consideration.
Unfortunately, we do not feel that your project is the right fit for our agency.
Please keep in mind that this is a very subjective business.
Thanks for thinking of our agency and we wish you the best with your writing career.
Sincerely,
Mallory Jenson
Agent/Submissions Coordinator
Clark Henshaw Literary Group
I slowly exhaled. Subjective business. It was only biased in the sense that every agency in the city agreed that my writing sucked.
The problem was that after this many rejections, I was starting to believe them.
At first it was easy to push the rejection aside.
Now though? Maybe I didn't have what it took.
Maybe my manuscript really was as crappy as everyone said.
I stuffed the paper back in the envelope.
Or maybe they weren't reading it at all.
Careful consideration probably meant straight in the trashcan.
Well, two could play that game. I tore the rejection letter in half and tossed it into the trash.
"I know," I said and looked down at my stomach.
"Putting Penny Hunter on the submission form is a foot in the door.
But I need to do this on my own. Now please stop agreeing with your father about everything.
I'm the one carrying you around for months.
" My words earned me another sharp kick in the ribs.
Thirteen rejection letters. I sat down on a stool in the kitchen and let my face sink into my hands.
I had submitted my query to at least 50 agencies and most of them hadn't even bothered responding.
I told James I was going to write instead of work, but all I had to show for it was a manuscript that I had reworked dozens of times because no one liked the story.
Our story. Maybe I was the one being too subjective.
Maybe I couldn't see that it wasn't a story worth telling because I saw it with rose-colored glasses.
I lived it. James was everything to me. And I was a naive, annoying, indecisive girl that no one wanted to read about.
Fiction had never been so real. And in this case, maybe fiction would have been better.
I should have just written a story that someone actually wanted to read instead of my idealized notion of what my life was.
I grabbed the apple that had been taunting me ever since I got home and bit into it.
I know it's not a banana, but you can't just eat bananas and water ice all day.
You have to be a grown-up. For some reason I burst into tears.
Because I wasn't talking to the baby growing in my stomach.
I was talking to myself. I was living off my husband.
When had I become a Stepford Wife? I was, in every sense of the word, useless.
Oh my God, I'm losing my mind. This baby was seriously making it impossible to stay sane.
And every time I even thought such a thing, he kicked me so hard.
He was feisty. And stubborn. And just like his father.
I smiled. James would probably say that those characteristics were just like me.
I placed my hand on my stomach and waited for the kick.
But this time it didn't come. "Thank you for being on my side," I said into the empty kitchen.
I knew I wasn't useless. But just once I wanted to show everyone that I wasn't just some trophy wife.
It wasn't like I didn't see the tabloids.
I knew what people said about me. They talked about my dress at this event and my necklace at that.
But damn it, I had a brain. I was more than my smile and my clothes.
I could pull my own weight. No, not enough to afford a place like this.
A small salary coming in off my books, though?
That would make me feel so much better. Wife and mother were the two best titles.
They were music to my ears. But adding author at the end of it would just make it a tad sweeter.
I took another bite of the apple. "And there's the kick. You are going to be such a handful, baby boy."
The sound of the front door opening made me jump.
I quickly wiped away my tears. Bee was right, I needed to stop letting my pregnancy hormones win.
An agent would call any day now. And even if one didn't, I was happy.
I loved my life. I loved our story even if no one else did.
Even if no one else would ever read about it.
Honestly, maybe that was better. It was our story, not anyone else's.
No one knowing kept it more pure somehow.
"Hey, beautiful." James kissed my temple and ran his hand along my stomach. "How are my girls today?"
I smiled up at him. "We're good, but you know perfectly well that it's your son brewing in there."
"I beg to differ. This baby is every bit you." Suddenly the smile was gone from his face as he lightly touched my chin. "What's wrong?" He ran the pad of his thumb beneath my eye even though I knew my tears were gone.
I swallowed hard. A lie was on the tip of my tongue and I wasn't even sure where it had come from.
The word nothing just wanted to fall out of me.
The thought of the lie left a sour taste in my mouth.
That was the one thing we never did. Not now.
Not after everything we'd been through. "I got another rejection letter in the mail.
" I bit the inside of my lip, feeling every bit the failure.
He placed a soft kiss against my forehead. "Those agencies are insane. They have no idea what they're missing out on."
I laughed. "I don't know about that. They're all saying the same thing. Which means I'm the one that's insane for thinking I had a chance."
"You know, you could let me read it. Maybe I could help." He leaned against the counter as he stared at me.
I let my eyes wander down to his lips. For some reason I was finding it hard to concentrate on his words.
Probably because we were rarely alone. And by some stroke of luck it was currently just the two of us.
I forced my eyes back up to his. "You can read it.
Eventually. The grand plan was to get an agent, get it published, and give you a real hardback copy.
I wanted you to read it when I was sure that it was perfect.
I wanted to show you that I was worth something more than.
.." I let my voice trail off. "I just want to prove that I'm worthy of you. "
"Oh, Penny." He wrapped his arms around me.
I breathed in his heavenly cologne. Wife. Mother. I didn't need the extra title. This was all I truly wanted. "I could get a thousand rejections and I'd still be happy," I mumbled into his neck.
He kept his arms wrapped around me, and didn't say a word. But his silence was louder than words. I knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I need to do this one thing on my own," I whispered.
"I didn't say anything."
"But you were thinking it."
He sighed and took a step back from me. "Honestly, it's probably good to have anonymity. Our life is already in the public eye way more than I'd like it to be. I'm getting used to the idea of you wanting to use a pen name."
"Really?" I placed my hand on my stomach. Both my boys were agreeing with me tonight.
"Really. You took my name in real life. That's what matters to me, Mrs. Penny Hunter. Now, aren't you going to ask me what's in the bag?"
I looked at the grocery bag on the counter. I hadn't even noticed that he brought one in. I smiled at him. "Fruit and chocolate?"
He laughed and slid the bag down the counter toward me. I opened it up and pulled out the bananas and Dove ice cream bars.
"This is why I love you. You're a mind reader." I pushed the apple aside and grabbed a banana instead. In two seconds flat I was biting into the food I had been desperately craving. "Mmm."
"Are you trying to torture me?" he asked.
I looked back up at James as I finished chewing. "There is no way that you're turned on right now. I'm huge." I gestured to my stomach. "And it's not like I'm sucking on this seductively. I just took the biggest bite."
"You're not huge. You're pregnant." He ran his palm along my stomach. "With my daughter. And I think you're absolutely gorgeous."
"It's a boy, James!"
A smile spread across his face. "It's definitely a girl."
"I swear it's not."
He raised his left eyebrow. "Do you want to bet?"
"Everyone else already has a wager going." I took another bite of the banana. "We might as well too. What did you have in mind?"
"Winner gets whatever they want."
I laughed. "That's rather vague. So you're saying that if it's a boy, I can have anything I want? Anything at all?"
"And if it's a girl, I can have anything I want." His eyes scanned down my body.
"Deal. But all you have to do is ask. I'll give you whatever you want right now.
" I glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should have a few minutes before.
.." my words were cut short by his lips crashing against mine.
I loved that he craved me the way I craved crazy foods.
And him. I certainly never stopped craving him.
I pulled on his tie to deepen the kiss. He groaned into my mouth. I loved that sound. Yes, we were rarely alone anymore. But we knew how to take advantage of those few moments in between the hectic ones.
We both jumped when we heard the front door open.
"We're home!" Ellen called from the foyer.
James ran the tip of his nose down the length of mine. "To be continued?"
"Of course." I straightened his tie. A continuation could mean anything from a few hours to several days, but neither one of us were upset. Maybe a couple years ago we would have been annoyed by the interruption. But we were a family now. "I love you."
"I love you so much." He placed a swift kiss against my lips.
"Daddy!" the sweetest little voice squealed from the doorway of the kitchen.