Chapter Eighteen #2
“I’m scared to, I’ve never been the type of girl to go for what I want.
I mean most of my life I was surrounded by men who didn’t give two shits about me, they just wanted the things I could do.
” I realize quickly how that sounds. “I don’t mean sexually, I mean I’m smart with books and numbers.
I know how to keep track of things, and I can normally talk someone into doing something they don’t want to do.
Not really proud of that, but I can be persuasive. ”
“Then be persuasive with your husband.” Whitney takes another bite of the pie I seem to have completely forgotten.
“I’m scared to be. What if I throw it out there and in the heat of the moment he doesn’t want it?” Rejection is a huge fear of mine. My dad and grandfather always rejected me. If I get the same thing from Holden, I might as well die.
Whitney rolls her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He isn’t going to reject you, Leighton. You’re beautiful. Plus he wouldn’t have married you unless he wanted to. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
There’s everything for me to worry about my brain says. But these women aren’t going to understand because they didn’t grow up in the same kind of situation I grew up in.
“Leighton,” Whitney reaches over and grabs my hand, “what happened to your mom?”
The question catches me off guard. No one ever asks me about her anymore, and it’s been a long time since I talked about her. I think about her almost every day, but talking about her is a different situation altogether.
“If I overstepped, please tell me. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I get the feeling her not being around is affecting you when it comes to your husband.”
For a long time, I think about what I want to tell them. Should I make it sound less harsh than it really is? Should I play it off like it doesn’t matter? Then I realize it does matter. Rejection has been a part of my life for a long time, starting with her.
“She left one day to go to the grocery store and never came back,” I whisper, licking my suddenly dry lips.
“I was eight, and Brooks was two. She told me she was bringing home ice cream.” I give them a sad smile.
“So I sat by that door waiting on her, I could taste every flavor of the Neapolitan, because it was my favorite. It was the one she always brought home. It was a hot, summer day, and I was looking forward to it. She left when the sun was high, and I sat there until the sun went down and my dad came home. I asked him where mom was, and he told me she left us because we’d been bad.
We were told to never speak of her again, and now everything she’d done was my responsibility.
I never saw her again.” I finish the rest of my story with a whisper.
Blaze wipes tears away from under her eyes. “Where do you think she is?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “Part of me hopes she’s dead, because I don’t know how a mom could leave us with my dad and grandfather, knowing what they do, and not look back. Another part hopes she got out and lived the life she wanted to. My dad has never been a soft man.”
I can’t even cry anymore, because I’ve spent most of my life crying about it.
Usually late at night when I know others can’t hear me, but it’s a hole I have that I’m not sure will ever be filled.
I lean down, kissing Stella on the head, sniffing at the smell of her shampoo, and letting it center me.
I know Whitney will never leave her daughter.
“Because of that, I’ve lived with this fear of rejection, because that’s what it felt like when she left a big, fucking, rejection.
The next morning, I was expected to run a household, and I did it, but sometimes I didn’t do it right, or I had lessons to learn.
” I hold my chin high. “It was hard, but I did it, and at this point in my life, I can’t take anymore rejection.
Especially not from the person I want to be accepted by so much. ”
The table is quiet and I wonder if I’ve shared too much, until Whitney squeezes the hand she still holds.
“I’m sorry you had to live through that, and now that I’m a mother, I can tell you without a doubt, she didn’t leave you.
Something prevented her from coming back.
And I can also tell you, Holden will never reject you. ”
I want to believe her, want to believe Holden and I are the real deal and we will be forever. As I open my mouth, someone comes into The Café, looking around. “I’m looking for a Leighton Thompson.”
“Tha…that’s me.” I hold up my hand. Surprised when I see what the man carries.
“I have a delivery for you. I just need you to sign here.” He sets a bouquet of flowers down on the table in front of me.
Fumbling, I take the pen he pushes in my direction and sign my name quickly.
Just like that, he’s gone, and I’m left staring at the gorgeous arrangement now blocking Whitney’s face.
“Hand her over, so you can open the card.” She reaches for Stella.
My hands shake as I open the card attached to the fresh flowers. They smell absolutely amazing. In handwriting I’ve come to recognize as Holden’s there’s a message.
I know it’s been a few weeks.
Thank you so much for taking care of me!
It’s been a long time since anyone did.
Here’s a thank you for it.
I hope you love it!
Holden
“They’re from Holden.” My captive audience is hanging on my every word. I shuffle through the envelope and let loose with a small shriek when I see what else is included. He remembered what we talked about, the movie we watched. He got us dance lessons.
I pull out my phone, hands shaking as I text him.
L: I can’t believe you did this. Thank you for the flowers, for the lessons…
H: Thank you for taking care of me, and just remember…those lessons are one night only.
I laugh loudly, holding the vouchers up for the girls to see.
“Girl,” Blaze levels me with a look, “I don’t know who’s got it worse…you or him. But you’ve both got it bad.”
Do we? I can’t think about it right now. Disappointment would ruin this moment. All I want for now is excitement, and as I look at the date on the lessons and realize they’re in a couple of nights. Excitement is all I can feel.
My shift is over in fifteen minutes, and I’m doing the last of my cleanup, getting the last of my papers together. Today I want to clock out quickly, because I’m so excited about the gift Holden gave me. Just as I finish sweeping up my section, the door opens and in walks Ace.
“Hey.” He hitches his chin at me.
“Hey.” I smile back, but on the inside cringing when he sits in my section.
“Is this yours or Violet’s?” He asks quietly as he grabs a menu.
“The section?” I ask, to make sure I understand what he’s saying.
“Yeah.”
“This one’s mine, if you want hers, you need to sit over there.” I point to two booths over.
Without a second glance, he puts the menu up and strolls over, having a seat in the booth. I tilt my head, studying him. “You know she’s married?”
“I know,” he nods, “I also know she deserves better.”
I wonder how he knows that, but I don’t have time to ask as Violet comes out from the back. She stops in her tracks as she spots Ace.
“I can get him if you want me to,” I offer. I get the feeling Violet has enough trouble at home.
“No,” she clears her throat, voice strong, “I’ve got it. You can clock out.”
Ace is someone I trust, so I do, but I have to wonder just what in the hell those two are doing. Even if it is none of my business.