17. Harmony
CHAPTER 17
Harmony
I roll toward the side of the bed, searching for Toby but he’s not there. I open my eyes and stretch my arms over my head, waiting to see if I can hear him. Is he in the shower? No, the water isn’t running. Is he in the kitchen getting coffee? The apartment is so quiet I can hear the woodpecker in the pines outside, so that’s a no. Where could he be?
I sit up and look around. His clothes that were flung around my room last night are gone. Looking out my open bedroom door, I don’t spot movement or see shadows dancing along the walls. No lights are on, and it’s still dark outside, so when did he leave?
“Toby?” The deafening silence tells me everything I need to know. He isn’t here. I grab my shirt from the floor and slip it over my head. Maybe he left me a note in the kitchen.
Except nothing is out of place. Not even a glass is on the counter. Checking outside, his car is no longer parked by the gate. Toby left. I hope his mom is okay, and he didn’t get a call in the middle of the night that I didn’t hear. I’ve always been a heavy sleeper. Even as a kid, Miss Shelly would tease me that she could vacuum during my naps without me waking up.
I wait for Toby to return, wondering if he ran somewhere. But the longer he’s gone, the more I realize two things: he’s not coming back, and I need to get ready for work.
I’m distracted most of the morning at The SeaSong. It doesn’t help that we’re even busier than normal. I keep checking the back parking lot for Toby’s Jag, but I don’t see it. Then, I get busy and when I check again, it’s there. He doesn’t come into the café. I don’t get an apology or explanation. Nothing. It becomes increasingly clear that Toby is avoiding me.
Maybe sleeping with me was some power play for him. Or a way to blow off steam, and now he’s embarrassed. Either way, he left me hanging with no word. Not cool.
By the next day, I’ve moved from concern and confusion to pure anger. Fuck Toby. He was just using me and throwing me away. So the sex was out of this world, big deal. It happened when he was emotionally drained over his mom. I’m not going to give it a second thought.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself and then realize I’m lying when I feel the pleasant ache of my well worked thigh muscles over a day later.
It’s all I can do to not ask about Toby when Marie comes in for her shift after school. But if he’s not even going to acknowledge me then fuck him. This is Rob all over again. At least I didn’t waste years of my life on Toby like I did with my ex.
In reality, maybe it was kind of Toby to end as quickly as he did.
“What’s wrong, baby?” my mom asks during our next video call. I tried pulling on on my favorite cardigan before the call, but fuck, my boobs felt like they’d bust though its fibers at any moment. And the look was not a flattering one.
I knew I’d gain weight being pregnant and all, but I didn’t expect my boobs to nearly double in size. Instead, I threw on a baggy hoodie that my dad left behind. It still has hints of wood and spice that remind me of him and how I need one of his hugs. The scent is light but still so present it distracts me from the call.
Shit, she’s going to know I’m lying.
“Nothing.” My one word answer is gloomy, and even I can hear the moroseness in it.
“Did something happen at the café?” Concern wrinkles the area between the bridge of her nose and fine lines appear around the outside her eyes. My mom is beautiful and young at heart—thanks to my dad, brother, and me keeping her that way.
“No. It’s nothing about the café, Mom. I promise.” I try to make her feel better. She doesn’t know about the baby yet, and I sure as hell don’t want to explain to her what happened between Toby and me. I’m having trouble understanding it myself. God, I’m so stupid, and I don’t want to be that na?ve girl who goes crying to her parents when she can’t make it in the real world.
“But there is something, I can tell. You can talk to me about anything, Harm. Anything.” I look away from the phone. My eyes well with tears. Hormones take over my emotions more often than not these days. I’m not usually a crier and if Mom sees it, it will set off the mom-copter parenting she’s been displaying since I moved to Port Haven.
“It’s just something I need to work out myself, but it’s not about the café.”
She gives me a look, and I know that if I don’t at least spill a little tea, she’ll be on the first flight she can find.
“It’s about a guy, okay?” I give her more information than I want to, but I don’t want her worrying about me and the café. I don’t need the stress of her hovering. Dad doesn’t need it, either.
“Oh. Wanna tell me about him?” She settles into her favorite chair in the living room of our house back home. For a moment, I’m so close to just telling her everything. About the baby. About Toby. All of it.
“No, not right now.” I change the subject before she gets the chance to question me. “So, Fend said his fish had more babies?”
“Oh, yes. We had to buy him a new, smaller aquarium to put the babies in so that they don’t get eaten.” She gets up and takes the phone over to show me the nursery tank. I can barely see the tiny, translucent fish darting through the water.
By the end of our conversation, I’m certain I’ve distracted her from the issues in my life.
“Harm, I love you. You can talk to me about anything. If not today, tomorrow. Next week. Any day, any time. Okay?”
“I know, Mom. I do. Love you.”
“I love you, too, sweet girl. And that’s something I want you to remember. You are a sweet girl. You always have been. Whatever’s bothering you, or whoever is bothering you, don’t let it ruin that part of you.”