Chapter 5 #2
“Bye, Cal.” Abby ended the call and turned her face into her pillow to muffle the sounds of her sobs.
Not that anyone could hear her, but she was ashamed to once again be crying her heart out over a man who’d chosen something else—or someone else—over her.
How many times in one lifetime was a woman supposed to get her heart broken?
Despite what he’d said, Abby had seen him with Candy enough to know the truth. Even if he wasn’t ready to admit it yet, she knew and wasn’t willing to waste any more of her life waiting around for him to figure it out. It was better to get out now before things got really ugly.
Disgusted with herself over the pity party, she wiped her face and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her eyes. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she grimaced at the red eyes and nose that looked back at her.
A knock on her door had her drying her face and running her fingers through her hair. Whoever it was would be able to tell she’d been crying. She opened the door to her mother. Could this day get any better?
“Oh Lord,” Carol said as she brushed by Abby on her way into the room. As always, every hair on her mother’s gray head was perfectly in place, and her outfit coordinated down to the pink espadrilles that matched the pink collar of the shirt that peeked out from under a designer sweater.
And as usual, Abby felt like a schlump next to her mother. She’d spent most of her life trying to measure up to her mother’s idea of perfection and had fallen short more often than not.
“By all means, come in. Please.”
“What happened?”
“A lot of things. None of it I wish to talk about.”
“You’ve been crying.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Save your sarcasm, Abigail.”
“How did you hear I was home? How did you know what room I was in?”
“It’s a small island. Word gets around. What’re you doing here when you could be with us?”
Abby raised her brows and let the expression speak for itself.
“Whether you believe me or not, I liked Cal. I wanted it to work out for you two. I was worried when you postponed the wedding—”
“Because his mother had a stroke, Mom. What would you have me do? Drag him to the altar when he’d rather be with his mother?”
“I never said that. I only wish you’d learned from the past and gotten married before you went after him.”
“Clearly, I haven’t learned a thing, but thanks for pointing that out to me. I hadn’t been thinking that myself or anything.”
“You’re in a mood.”
“Do ya think?”
“Maybe you two will work things out. Some time and space—”
“We’re not going to work things out. It’s over.”
Carol blew out a deep breath and sat on Abby’s bed. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t have much of a plan. I’m going to find an apartment and run the gift shop at the Surf this summer. After the summer, I’ll reevaluate.”
“I so wish you hadn’t given up your business.”
Abby wanted to scream, but she held her tongue. “Anything else you’d like to get off your chest?”
“I’m not your enemy.”
“I never said you were. But stating the obvious doesn’t help.”
Carol stood and hooked her pink-patterned purse over her shoulder. “Your father and I would do anything for you. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” Abby said, blinking back new tears. Her parents’ intentions were always good, even if their standards were a little too high for her liking. “Thank you.”
Carol gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve missed you. It’s good to have you home, even if the circumstances aren’t ideal.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Come see us.”
“I will.”
At the door, Carol paused and turned to Abby. “I’m sorry this has happened to you, but you’re a strong person and you’ll get through it.”
Her mother left before Abby could form a reply to the unprecedented compliment.
She’d always felt like a failure in the eyes of her exacting parents.
Sure, she’d always known they loved her, but they had been disappointed when she moved to LA with Grant without the benefit of marriage and even more so when she went to Texas to be with Cal.
“Enough of dwelling on the past,” she said to herself as she went into the bathroom and got out her makeup to repair the damage to her face.
“This is my summer, and it’s time to start having some fun.
Damn it.” Smiling at her reflection, she whispered, “Fuckin’ A,” and dissolved into giggles at the sound of a word she’d rarely used before today.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it was going to take a while before words like that rolled off her tongue naturally. But she’d get there. Starting tonight, everything was going to be different.
Dinner was the usual McCarthy family fiasco, and Adam loved every minute of the noise, the kids, the food, the love. Being surrounded by those who loved him best brought home once again how completely taken in he’d been by someone who hadn’t deserved his love.
He volunteered for grill duty so he could have a minute to get himself ready for some lighthearted family fun.
After the trauma of the accident, his parents and siblings had enough on their minds without taking on his crap, too.
Adam was determined to keep his problems to himself for as long as he could.
He was, however, glad he’d told his dad.
It was nice to have one person firmly in his corner.
Well, Abby, too. She’d been very supportive, which he appreciated.
If only he could stop thinking about Sasha and trying to figure out when things had gone so wrong between them that she could sell him out for money without blinking an eye. Whatever had happened, he’d been completely oblivious.
He’d pictured her here, planned to bring her home sometime this summer.
Up until now, he’d kept her a secret from his family because he knew how his mother got her hopes up at the first sign of a girlfriend.
His siblings falling in love one after the other had bought him some time to keep his relationship private for that much longer.
Sasha… Adam hated himself for missing her, for wondering if she missed him or had regrets about what she’d done.
He hated himself for thinking about the apartment they’d shared or what would become of all the things they’d bought together, back when they still planned a life together. Three whole days ago.
Who cared about wineglasses or sofas? He’d cared about her and had thought she felt the same.
That was the part that truly galled him—how he could’ve lived with, slept with, made love with and worked with a woman who cared so little in the end that she could slide a knife in his back without a thought about all they’d shared.
“You cooking that steak or killing the cow all over again?”
Big Mac’s voice brought Adam back to the present, where he discovered he was jabbing the barbeque fork methodically into the steak.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you told me earlier,” Big Mac said. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, son.”
His dad had promised to keep the story to himself until Adam was ready to share his news with the rest of the family. “Shit happens.”