The Next Twenty Days #2
Plus, the ritual is relaxing, almost a meditation. While I’m in front of the mirror, I don’t have to think about anything except blending and mixing colors and combining everything in the correct shades and tones. When I’m done, I stand back, looking over this new version of my old self.
I may have changed inside in some ways, but some things remain.
It makes me feel steady and secure, like I can at least rely on the look I perfected over the years even when nothing else is under my control.
Like I’m still the same person I always was, even after I ran from that person and that life for two years.
She was here all along, waiting for me to uncover her from the mask I wore in California, when I tried to be someone else, someone glamorous and popular and everything I’m not.
I go to my appointment at the clinic, where the doctor tells me a little spotting isn’t a big concern, especially since it’s stopped. She tells me it could have been stress and sends me on my way with instructions to take it easy.
I sit in my car afterwards and cry. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until she said it.
How scared I was that I wouldn’t get a chance to have this baby, the one I didn’t even know I wanted until I thought I might be losing it.
Now, the thought of not being a mother to the tiny spark of life inside me fills me with anguish.
So does the thought that I might be doing it alone.
As I pull myself together, I realize that the only person I want to tell, the person I want to talk to, the one person who can always comfort me, isn’t here.
He’s still in the ICU, still recovering from a bullet to the heart.
All this time, I’ve fought him, and now that I could lose him, I’m finally realizing what a fool I’ve been.
I had so much to lose, but I never even saw it. I was too busy fighting against him to realize he was always fighting for us.
I go straight to the hospital, where they tell me he’s only allowed to see family.
“I’m his fiancé,” I insist. After breaking down in tears and telling the attendant about the baby, she finally caves. I sit beside his bed, holding his limp hand, the way I did when he was in the medically induced coma after the attack that cost him his eye.
“Please don’t die,” I whisper. “You haven’t gotten to be a dad yet.”
The monitor beside the bed answers in a steady beeping. For now, that’s all I get, but it has to be enough. It says he’s alive, that his heart, though damaged, is still beating.
“You’re going to be a great dad,” I say, gripping his fingers. “And a great husband. We’ll do everything different from our parents.”
Before I leave, I bend and kiss his cool forehead. “I love you,” I whisper. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next day I go back, and the next. When I get home that day, Caitlyn says Dixie came by to see me and that I shouldn’t ignore my cousin.
I have somewhere to go before I see her, though.
A few minutes later, I’m standing on the porch of a house I grew up playing in, across the lawn and a row of lilac bushes from Devlin’s.
Now, there’s nothing left next door. They’ve cleared the burned rubble of the house that was there the last time I was in town.
Maybe the Darlings are finally ready to rebuild.
After a bit, the door swings open, and I gape in surprise for a second before I get my wits about me.
“Devlin,” I say, too stunned to remember my manners. Preston said he was back, but I didn’t expect to see him so soon, for him to be opening the door of his former enemy’s house.
“Dolly,” he says with a little nod.
“I—I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say. “Opening the door and everything.”
“I live here,” he says.
“Right,” I say, swallowing. “Well… I’m sorry about Preston.”
He shakes his head. “What were you thinking, Doll?”
“I—I don’t know,” I stutter. “I guess I wasn’t. It’s just… You find out someone’s got an old man locked up in his house, you call the cops. That’s how normal people react.”
“Come on, Doll,” he says. “You’re the mayor’s daughter. You can’t be that na?ve.”
I draw myself up, which makes me the same height as him with my heels on. “Excuse me?”
“You think the legal system works the way it does in fairytales? You really think there’s liberty and justice for all?”
“That’s not for us to decide.”
“Sometimes it is,” he says flatly.
“Well, I disagree,” I say. “I don’t think it’s our place to sentence someone and imprison them without a trial.”
He shakes his head, looking at me like I’m an idiot, and I suddenly can’t remember why I put up with his attitude as long as I did.
Harper said I was still hung up on him. Not only is she wrong, but I’ve also forgotten what I saw in him to begin with.
Why I was so in love with a man who thinks I’m dumb and unimpressive when there was someone else right there all along, someone who thought I was irreplaceable and irresistible?
Someone who didn’t treat my love like a burden to bear, but the most precious treasure, something to be sought and fought for and worshipped.
Something he’d sacrifice his reputation, even his relationship with his brotherhood and family, to gain.
I clear my throat. “I actually came by to see Crystal.”
“Sure you did,” he says, stepping back. “Come on in. I’ll send up for her.”
Despite three years in California and his natural born arrogance—he obviously thinks I’m here to see him—he didn’t forget his manners.
I can’t forget mine, either, so I come in even though I’d rather not.
He leads me to the sitting room, where a kid I don’t know is watching TV.
She’s lying upside down, with her head hanging off the couch, her back flat on the seat, and her legs sticking up against the back.
When she sees me, she does a somersault roll and comes up on the floor on her knees, throwing her hair out of her eyes with a skinny arm and looking up at me.
“You’re tall,” she says.
“Am I really?” I ask, widening my eyes in mock surprise. “I hadn’t noticed. I sure am glad you pointed it out.”
She giggles and dives back onto the couch. “I’m Olive. I live here.”
“I never would’ve guessed.”
“Well, I do,” she says, gesturing her arms wide. “This whole big house is mine. I can go anywhere I want, except the big kids’ rooms when the doors are closed. They didn’t tell me, but I know why. Do you?”
“I’m sure I have no idea,” I say, shifting from one foot to the other. The kid can’t be older than seven or eight, so I’m not about to tell her that one.
She puts one hand beside her mouth and stage whispers, “It’s ‘cause they’re having sex.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not…”
“Yuh-huh,” she says. “Harper and Royal have sex, and Devlin and Crystal have sex, and Duke says he’ll close the door if he brings a girl home, but he’s taking a break from having sex.”
“Um… Who told you all this?” I ask. “And do your parents know you’re learning that kind of thing?”
Crystal steps into the room, and Olive turns to her. “Don’t you and Devlin have sex?” she demands.
Crystal looks from Olive to me and back again. “Uh…”
“I already know,” Olive says, flopping onto her back on the leather cushion. “That’s where babies come from, and you have babies.”
“I see you’ve met Olive,” Crystal says, looking embarrassed. “She’s Harper’s… Wait, do you know Harper?”
I shift awkwardly, then play it safe and polite. “We’ve met.”
“I heard you were coming back,” she says. “Dixie said she wanted to get us all together like old times. Is she coming here?”
“Who’s coming here?” asks a familiar, less refined southern accent. Harper steps into the room and pulls to a stop. I swear the temperature drops ten degrees when she sees me.
“Dixie,” Crystal says, giving me a questioning look. “Right?”
“Maybe we should go out,” I suggest. “We could get ice cream at Two Scoops of Love, like we used to.”
“That’s a great idea,” Crystal says quickly. “Let me just grab my bag and let Devlin know.”
She ducks out, leaving me standing there with Harper, who looks like she’d rather wrestle a gator than talk to me. The awkwardness in the air builds to a painful crescendo.
“If you want to come with us, you’re welcome,” I say, the words slipping out against my will.
The look she gives me says, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Can I go?” Olive pipes up.
“They’ve got ice in the freezer,” Harper says, holding out a hand to the kid. “Let’s see what we can take without anyone noticing.”
Olive skips over and slides her hand into Harper’s, and for a brief second, Harper’s abrasive manner softens. Then they walk out without a word to me.
“Okay, then,” I say. “I’ll just… Be in my car.”
I turn and head for the door. Crystal climbs up into the passenger seat of the truck a minute later.
I realize this is going to be awkward as hell.
I can’t remember why I made friends with my ex’s new girlfriend, but somehow, it seems weirder now than it did when our breakup was still fresh in my bruised heart.
We make small talk all the way to Two Scoops of Love, the local ice cream shoppe.
The vintage wooden sign has been replaced with a tall, modern one, which makes my nostalgic heart sad.
When we climb down from the truck, Dixie comes scurrying over, dragging Colt by the hand.
He used to be like a little brother to me, but now he’s all grown up, with tattoos covering his neck and a more guarded look in his eyes when he regards me.
I stiffen. This isn’t what we used to do.
The three of us came here a few times for girl’s night or after games.
A couple times, Crystal’s brothers insisted on driving her, but they’d sit across the room and let us have girl talk while they did their thing.
I thought today would be a day to relax and forget the past few days.
But I’m learning to stop expecting things to stay the same forever. If I’d embraced change sooner, maybe Preston wouldn’t be where he is now.